Bullet to the Heart
by Felixfeles
Summary: A series of homicides are happening across London. Detective Munkustrap, father of five, is assigned to the case. And if dealing with a serial killer wasn't enough his personal life is taking a bashing as well. 3rd in the slash contest!
1. Jumping the Gun

**Here's my story for the Slash contest! Please note that this story is not for the faint hearted, there's murder, slash, violence and goodness knows what else. I'll be sending out additional warnings per chaper as well just to be on the safe side. This chapter contains swearing and heavily implied murder.**

**IMPORTANT: In this world the Jellicles only wear clothes when it's a) cold b) an important occasion c) you just happen to be elite (and probably well off). It's their birthday suits for everything else!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>He walked along the footpath making sure to stay on the side closest to the road which traditionally men walked on and therefore represented power and dominance over females. It felt proper to do this, tonight of all nights especially. As he strode on he did a quick rain check already knowing that he had everything.<p>

His suit was crisp and freshly laundered having been brought specifically for this purpose. He carried a briefcase that was slightly battered but undoubtedly classy to the right eye. A pair of large sunglasses completed the image of a wealthy businessman, which was common as rabbits in a warren in this neighbourhood.

Far less common was the army pistol that was stashed in his belt and hidden by his blazer. Feeling the cool metal against his skin he gave a smirk and swished his tail excitedly. He possessed the power to kill any of these cats, anyone and everyone.

And they didn't even know it!

"Oi watch where you're going Scruffy!" A bubble gum chewing stilettoed teen-queen had walked right into him and hadn't even apologised. "You nearly ruined my hair idiot!"

He growled in the back of his throat and fingered the bulge on his hip. He could shoot this bitch right now and no one would be wiser until tomorrow morning. What was the loss of another bimbo to the world anyway?

Breathing in for four seconds and out for six like his therapist told him to he focused on his goal and continued walking down the street.

His targets house was the third from the end of the street. Owned by Elizabeth Maclaby, a lawyer who specialised in sexual assault and domestic violence. Newspapers called her 'The Angel of Queen-kind'. She was well noted for taking on cases at reduced rates for those that couldn't afford her full price and was occasionally compared to the fictional Atticus Finch.

And tonight he would be the last person on earth to see her alive.

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><p><strong>R &amp; R if you feel so disposed<strong>


	2. Character List

**I'm uploading a list of character because a) it will help the storyline. And b) because I want to be mean and keep you guys waiting for the next chapter ;)**

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><p><strong>Munkustrap<strong>

Age: 36

Parents: Deuteronomy and Grizabella

Children: Victoria, Plato, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer (both adopted) and Jemima

Siblings: Rum Tum Tugger and Demeter

Divorced: Griddlebone

A Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard, he's been single parenting his five children for two years with the help of his Aunt, Uncle and Mistoffelees.

**Deuteronomy **

Age: 60

Children: Demeter, Munkustrap, and Rum Tum Tugger (in that order)

Sibling: Skimbleshanks

Married: Grizabella

Chief Superintendent of Scotland Yard and is one of the few who have 'risen from the ranks' to obtain the position.

**Grizabella**

Age: 62

Children: Demeter, Munkustrap, and Rum Tum Tugger (in that order)

Married: Deuteronomy

Was a part time actress at a London theatre company.

**Rum Tum Tugger**

Age: 32

Parents: Deuteronomy and Grizabella

Siblings: Munkustrap and Demeter

Works as a collar and underwear model for the 'Urban Jellicle Clothing Company', he claims to be one of the few Jellicles to make briefs look sexy.

**Bombalurina**

Age: 31

Works as a journalist in the London newspaper, is very persistent.

**Demeter**

Age: 38

Parents: Deuteronomy and Grizabella

Siblings: Munkustrap and Rum Tum Tugger

She lives in America and works for a Scholarship company that pays for student's university/college fees and boards them with 'hosting families'. Two years ago she sent Mistoffelees over to Munkustrap's family to study in London.

**Mistoffelees**

Age: 31

Parents: Macavity

Is completing a masters degree in magic with the help of a Scholarship program that Demeter's part of. He lives with Munkustrap's family and helps with looking after the children/housekeeping.

**Jennyanydots**

Age: 56

Married: Skimbleshanks

Is Deuteronomy's sister in law

Works at a help home for troubled mice

**Skimbleshanks**

Age: 58

Married: Jennyanydots

Siblings: Deuteronomy

Works at the railway, is sometime away for several days at a time.

**Victoria**

Age: 14

Parents: Munkustrap and Griddlebone

Siblings: Plato, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, Jemima

Munkustrap's eldest daughter, and is very fond of dancing. She resents her mother for walking out on them.

**Plato**

Age: 12

Parents: Munkustrap and Griddlebone

Siblings: Victoria, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, Jemima

Has recently grown taller than Mistoffelees

**Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer**

Ages: 7

Adoptive Parents: Munkustrap and Griddlebone

Adoptive Siblings: Victoria, Plato and Jemima

Their mother died when they were two and so they came to live with Munkustrap (their Godfather) who adopted them.

**Jemima**

Age: 5

Parents: Munkustrap and Griddlebone

Siblings: Victoria, Plato, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

The youngest in the family, and doesn't she know it!

**Griddlebone**

Age: 37

Children: Victoria, Plato, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

She left her family two years ago for unknown reasons breaking Munkustrap's heart in the process

**Macavity**

Age: 54

Children: Mistoffelees

Grew up in Alabama, he has a very ridged way of thinking that caused him and Mistoffelees to argue a lot.

**Bustopher Jones**

Age: 53

Is they Mayor of London

Like throwing dinner parties for the Scotland yard, much to Munkustrap's dismay!

**Coricopat**

Age: 28

A plain clothes officer who specialises in street fighting, motorbike gangs, and wiseass comments.

**Cassandra**

Age: 32

An officer in Scotland Yard, she has a degree in psychology.

**Victor**

Age: 27

An officer in Scotland Yard

**Pouncival**

Age: 24

A sergeant in Scotland Yard, he works under Munkustrap along with Pepper

**Pepper**

Age: 23

A sergeant in Scotland Yard, has a thing for Pouncival

**Ling**

Age: she won't say

Is Deuteronomy's secretary, she likes to scare the younger officers with tales of past gory cases.

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><p><strong>I've thrown in a couple of my oc's but they won't be featured much as I firmly believe that the canon characters should dominate the story. <strong>

**R & R if you feel so disposed!**

**Felix**


	3. Highway to Hell

**New chapter it took like forever to write but I'm really pleased with the result. Plenty of action and violence flavoured with a little Munku/Misto sappiness!**

**WARNING: contains swearing and violence and murder and some meantion of suicide.**

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><p>I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths to try and release the tension in my body. Did it help? Not really. I could've had an entire bottle of sleeping pills and it wouldn't make a difference. Inside the building I could see four maybe five cats leering over another figure that must've been about a quarter of their size. I ground my teeth. This was just a taste of what went on behind the closed doors of the <em>Satan's Saints<em> clubhouse. One of the toms hauled the victim up by the scruff of his neck while another cracked his knuckles in preparation for "justice".

'_not yet'_ I thought to myself '_just a few more seconds'_

The tom was fighting back against his abusers. He kicked the kneecap of the one that was holding him and managed to wriggle out of his grip. He made a dash for the door but a biker with an over grown mullet grabbed his shirt and wrenched him back.

'_Few more seconds'_

The mullet biker held the tom's arms behind his back while another delivered a hefty blow to his stomach. The tom cried out in pain.

'_Now!'_

I sprang up from my hiding place and charged inside, closely followed by an assigned team of policemen, the special ops, and a commander from MI5. The toms were pinned face-down by the policemen while the special ops checked them over for explosives and weapons. I headed for the mullet biker hoping that the tom in his grasp was okay, only to find that said tom was strolling towards me while his biker counterpart was groaning on the floor.

'What took you so long Munkus? I thought that I was pollicle meat there for a second.'

'You were fine Cori and you know it' replied. Coricopat's an expert at street fighting and a great cop to boot. It was a common joke among the policemen that the day he was in trouble was the day of the apocalypse. Cori and I walked over to mullet cat who was glairing up at us as someone cuffed his hands.

'One of these day when I'm out' he growled 'I'm gonna smash you and your little police friends to a pulp. I'll bet my life savings on it.'

'Now now' tutted Cori 'you don't want to waste you money, you're going to need it for the hospital bills. I've broken at least three ribs and cracked a few more you know.' Mullet could only hiss back.

Just then a shout was heard above the general noise that brought the party to a sickening halt. 'Fat Al's getting away!'

We all rushed outside just in time to see an overweight figure rounding a corner and disappearing into the night.

"Victor, to the side!" I yelled and tore after him. My my collage Victor went pounding round to the other side of the block in the hope of cornering him. I was fitter than Fat Al and covered ground rapidly but could not see him on the sparsely peopled lane. At one point I thought I spotted him but it turned out to a Siamese hooker. Honest mistake.

All too soon I caught sight of Victor coming towards me empty handed. "Hey Straps" he panted "there was a side ally the way I came. The jammy git* must've slipped through there."

"Balls" I cursed "Why couldn't he just play nicely and let us arrest him for once?"

"Cause he's never manly enough to face us fair in square"

"Hello boys" purred a voice that was not quite smug.

We wheeled around only to see Cassandra leading and overweight man in handcuffs. Trailing behind the pair was another female cop acting as a rear guard.

"I spotted the side ally before we started the raid and when Fat Al did runner so Pepper and I decided to go check it out." Said Cassandra pulling Fat Al forward by the ear. Of course you boys knew about that gap already didn't you?

"Course we did Cassy" I replied, "thanks for collecting him for us."

"You guys won't be locking me up" grunted Fat Al "you never have and you never will."

Fat Al did have a point. His hard-core team of heavily corrupted lawyers had so far succeeded in keeping him out of prison. But even if Fat Al did get let off we still had quantities of evidence that would one day be used in front of a jury that didn't t buy his alibies.

Cassandra merely tugged his ear sharply and led him off to the waiting police vehicle.

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><p>It was nearly six O'clock by the time we'd left the building. By then the December sky was pitch black. I'd had several invitations from the officers to join them for drinks but I declined and started my car.<p>

Fifteen minutes later I'd pulled up in front of the house that belonged to my Uncle Skimble and Aunt Jenny. The sound of noisy voices filled the air with the washing machine and sports newsreader stepping in as an accompaniment. Above the general hoots and shouts I could hear glasses clinking togethers and cutlery rattling adding a steady percussion to the welcoming symphony. I entered the house and kicked off my shoes. Someone small galloped into the hall and spotted me. I was caught.

_three_

_tw-_

"Daddy's home!" shrieked Jemima as she barrelled into my waiting arms closely followed by the rest of the gang. They squashed me into a Munkus-sandwhich and five voices all compeated to try and tell me about their day. I was gradually steered into the kitchen where Jenny was pulling dinner out of the oven and Mistoffelees was pouring drinks.

"Hello Munkustrap sir" he said pouring out a glass of apple juice

"It's Munkustrap no sir about it" I called back as I was swept towards the living/dining room of the house. Misto grinned and turned red as he spilt apple juice over the bench top.

Jenny waved at me with her tail and called out a cheerful "hello dear, don't forget to wash your hands this time."

"Yes Jenny" I said with mock meekness and turned to the bathroom. Skimble walked passed me carrying a bottle of very familiar amber liquid.

"Skimble" I groaned "not scotch _again_"

"Yes scotch again" he replied with a shake of disapproval "how could ye ever get tired of it ye ungrateful nephew of mine."

"Because ye ungrateful nephew will be safe from Jenny's tyranny" I retorted before heading towards the sink.

Three minutes later and I was sitting at the dinner table inhaling the scent of roasted chicken and gravy. As I ate the tension that was gripping my body slowly start to fade away. Friends often ask me how could I live in an overcrowded house with five kids (2.75 above the average) without going completely insane. The truth is I'd probably go insane without them.

My musings were cut short by a sharp pair of elbows digging into me and Jemima plonked herself on my lap and finished off the last of my ice cream. "Thank you daddy" she giggled. I wiped her mouth and she looped her arms around my neck.

"How's your cold Jems?" I asked while Jenny, Plato and Vicky cleared away plates.

"Better now, Misto says I can go outside tomorrow!"

"Already?"

"Yup!"

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><p>I was walking over to the couch when I was knocked over by two multi-coloured blurs with identical grins. "Hey dad we posted out letters to Santa today!" Jerrie's tail swished excitedly "only a week and a bit left to Christmas!"<p>

"That's great guys" I said, struggling to draw breath with two seven year olds on my chest "what did you two ask for?" Teazer giggled excitedly and poked her head over he brother's shoulder.

"A trampoline" she said "and a new PlayStation game, and a whoopee cushion!" Jerrie blew a loud raspberry and the twins rolled around laughing. I smiled to myself knowing that the latter two items were safely stored away in the loft along with the other presents. Our yard was too shrubby to fit a trampoline in it but we'd gotten something else that we thought would suffice wrapped in newspaper and placed carefully in the loft.

ACDC's _Highway to Hell_ suddenly blared in my pocket. I sighed and pulled my phone out, the screen told me it was 'Boss' calling. I silently prayed that it was a prank call and answered. "Hello this is Munkustrap"

"Straps we need you in a car and on the road pronto" A familiar voice ordered

I frowned "What's happened Dad?"

"A lawyer named Elizabeth Maclaby, the one that does the domestic violence cases, was found dead outside her house. Some S.O.B shot her in the heart and strung her to a tree." Deuteronomy paused and I let lose my string of question."

"Any witnesses?"

"No"

"Has the scene been isolated?"

"Yes"

"Did they cut the body down?"

"No thank goodness"

"Were any weapons found nearby?"

"A handgun that has ten years' worth of rust on it"

"Why me Dad?"

"Because, my son, I know I can trust you to bring this case to a conclusion"

"You flatter me dad"

"Good boy, now here's the address"

Twenty minutes later I'd arrived at the murder scene and was badging my way through the crowd. Eventually I spotted the _corpus delicti_ and for and instant the breath froze in my chest.

Elizabeth's body was swaying ever so slightly in the December breeze. The tree branch creaked harshly with the regularity of a pendulum. Her finely tailored suit was torn and stashed across her chest and along her pants. One particular cut that made my blood curdle was a long one cantered right where her trouser legs met.

"Picquerious pervert" I muttered turning away before I brought up my dinner.

Along the footpath the spots of blood splatter started out as spots which gradually out into streaks as the splatter went further away from where the victim was shot. About six feet in front of the blood was gunshot residue indicating where the murderer stood during the shooting.

And of the murderer himself? His hairs, fibres, fingerprints or weapons…

There was nothing.

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><p>At 11:27pm I staggered back home fighting the urge to collapse on the shoe pile and sleep there. While taking a warm shower I massaged my temples and did my best to pull myself together. I was trained to solve cases like these with little to work on. The lab would piece together what happened in Elizabeth's last moments and hopefully unearth something of us to work with. Until then we could go through her old cases, lawyers made lots of enemies right? I It would all work out… somehow.<p>

Padding out to the kitchen I spotted a faint glow coming out of a laptop. A small figure wearing rectangular shaped glasses was sitting behind it. I smiled

"Hey Misto" I said trying to hide the wariness from my voice "how's the coursework coming on?"

My attempt at sounding chipper failed completely and Misto merely adjusted his glasses to study my appearance. In an instant he was by my side and pulling up a chair for me to sit on. "You alright Munk? You look awful."

"I feel awful" I groaned sitting down in the chair gratefully. "There's this knife happy guy, or girl, or whatever and my head hurts trying to make sense of it."

"What happened?"

"You know the lawyer Elizabeth Maclaby?" I asked plonking my butt in the chair next to his.

"Not personally, but yes"

"We found her body hanging from a tree"

Any other person would have inched away from me at these words. People who know nothing about life on the streets often distance themselves from people like me who deal with it on a daily basis. Misto however was not one of these people and after two years of living under a cop's roof he was able to take homicide and the gristle that came with it in his stride.

"How'd she die?"

"She was shot through the heart, although whoever did it had tried to make it look like a self-hanging. Officers are saying it was a staging* tactic albeit a pretty poor one."

"What do you think?" asked Misto

"I'm not sure" I relied massaging my temples "somehow I don't think this guy would be contend with leaving us a sloppy decoy. If he was to cover it up he'd be much more careful."

"You mean, he _deliberately_ made the cover up sloppy?" Asked Misto wide eyed.

"Exactly" I replied "though as to why he did so, I have no idea"

"How did he try to stage the scene?"

"He strung her by her neck in a tree, like the way they used to hang people, and then he threw a paper bag over her head. But it was still obvious that she'd been shot, there was way too much blood for it to be a hanging. And when we took the bag off, she didn't look shocked or angry or anything, just, surprised… oh don't know Misto, it doesn't make sense."

Misto nodded unassumingly "Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"Please"

He returned with a can of larger which I gratefully accepted. I hadn't meant to start rambling, really I hadn't, but sometimes with difficult cases like these I would collect a pile of baggage that I wouldn't even know was there until I can home. Griddlebone had called it 'post-traumatic stress to unload on spouses' disorder'.

"Am I disturbing your work?" I asked anxiously. He shook his head.

"I needed a break anyway; it's a pretty tricky assignment"

"How's it coming along?"

"I'm just touching it up a little. Proof reading, you know…"

"Your assignments never stop do they?" Misto grinned and shook his head

"Nope. One of these days I'm going to turn into an assignment I swear." I chuckled and took a sip of larger, it tasted satisfyingly bitter.

"One day we'll go to the beach and do squat-all for an entire week" I decided taking another sip

"When pigs fly" retorted Misto.

"You're on." I stood up and stretched. "I'm hitting the sack"

"Big day tomorrow?"

"As always, night Misto"

"Goodnight Munkustrap."

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><p><strong>* jammy is an english term meaning you've extremely lucky<strong>

***staging is a forensic term for making trying to fool the police into thinking that something else happened e.g. a murder made to look like a suicide.**

**R & R if you feel so disposed**


	4. I Close My Eyes

**Soooo I was in bed at 4 am staring at the wall. I'd woken up and couldn't get back to sleep and was extremely bored. What do I do? FIND MY LAPTOP AND FINISH THIS CHAPTER! as well as watching a Negima episode, reading Lackadaisy and looking up the particulars of erectile disfunction hehe. It's now 7:15 and I think that the rest of the family is finally starting to emerge, perfect timing!**

**This chapter contains depresssing rumination by no other that Munku himself!**

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><p>I was in bed and drifting off to sleep in record time. My last comprehensible thought was wondering why Griddlebone wasn't beside me in the bed. Then I remembered that she'd divorced me two years ago and I hadn't seen her at all since then.<p>

Like I said, I was pretty tired.

************************************************Into Dreamland we go!**********************************************

"_I do"_

"_I do"_

It was spring when Griddlebone and I mated underneath a canopy of roses and cherry blossom. Griddlebone had designed it herself; in fact she'd organized almost everything for that day. Which is why (I believed) it was absolutely perfect.

"_I'm back!"_

"_Dadda!"_

"_Hello darling, welcome home"_

Our daughter was born just over a year later. She so beautiful, with snow white fur and a smile that could light up a room, just like her mother.

"_Hey darling would you mind looking after Plato and Vicky for a few hours?_

"_Not at all Grids, where are you going?"_

"_Just to the shopping center"_

"_Do you want me to drive you?"_

"_No…no that's okay my friends are picking me up. A girls day out, you know._

"_Oh okay"_

I first began to suspect something was wrong when Jerrie's and Teazer's mum died.

"_Those two are keeping you up half the night with their crying."_

"_They're only two Grids"_

"_They're almost three; our two were sleeping through the night by three."_

"_They're missing their mother still they'll get over it eventually"_

"_Isn't there a relative they could go to? They're driving me crazy here at home."_

"_I'm afraid not."_

"_What about their father?"_

"_We don't know where he is"_

"_Well in that case they should go to a foster home; they're not your responsibility"_

"_Grids!"_

I refused to give Jerrie and Teazer up for several reasons. First of all I knew that it would only reinforce in them the belief in them that they were worthless. And second, I knew their streets-born mother who'd fought tooth and claw to get into the police force well. She'd worked hard to make both ends meet and positively adored her kids. When she'd died I realized how much they resembled their mother in both looks and spirit and realized that even if I wanted too, I couldn't give them up and let their mother's hard work go to waste.

They were both extremely energetic and, even then, were up to their whiskers in mischief. I put Grid's irritability down to that. I began taking the two to the office with me, just to get them out of her fur for a few hours. Dad didn't mind and even Ling (dad's sharp-tongued secretary) couldn't help but laugh at their tumbling acrobatics and adorable cockney accents.

This move seemed to help enormously. Victoria and Plato were now old enough to be left on their own for an hour or two and she would disappear during that time to have lunch with a friend or take a Pilates class. She called these snatched breaks her 'revival time'.

"_Where were you Grids? I was about to call the police."_

"_Oh hello dear, I know I'm a little late"_

"_You were gone for four hours!"_

"_Yes and I'm so sorry for making you worry, there was this awful traffic jam and I forgot to bring my phone with me."_

"_Mummy! Where were you?"_

"_I got caught up in the traffic darling when coming home."_

"_I missed you mummy"_

_I missed you too darling, tell you what? I'll buy an ice cream for you all when we go out tomorrow. How does that sound?"_

Then there were complications during Jams' birth and Grids had to have a C-section. Her moods' took a turn for the worse. She was snappish and irritable and would leave the house, the kids and myself for days at a time. Again I tried taking the kids to work with me or round to Jenny and Skimble's. I think they both know how just how bad things were at home and they never shut the door on us. Other times they'd come round asking for the kids as "we're going to the beach next week and it would just be boring with the two of us". I was ever so grateful to them.

However this did not seem to help things. When the children weren't there to scold and snap at, she'd take her frustration out on me. We had several awful arguments and she slapped me once or twice.

But we still had a few good times. After one particularly bad row she came and profoundly apologized to me for everything. She said that she would do her best to make it right again. Then we went out for lunch and visited the markets. I brought her a necklace that she chose at a jewelry booth to symbolize out new start. It was made from Huon pine and been sandpapered till it felt like velvet and carved into a heart shape. I still have that necklace.

These episodes of reform never lasted long though and most of the time I was walking on eggshell around her. Then one day, when jenny and Skimble were yet again taking care of the kid's, I came home to find the house deserted. One the mantel piece she'd taped an application for divorce sheet, with a note saying to contact her lawyer if there was any questions.

I called him immediately asking him to put me in touch with my mate, he refused over and over again, and every time I visited the office he'd have some excuse. At last he said that if I persisted he'd have to place a restraining order on me.

Two months after I'd signed the papers I was talking on Skype with my sister Demeter who was in North Carolina at the time.

"_You look terrible Munkus"_

"_I'm fine Deme, really I am"_

"_How much sleep have you had recently?"_

"_Not a lot, but I've been taking naps so it's alright." My sister wasn't convinced and peered at me suspiciously through the camera._

"_Have Jenny and Skimble been helping you out at all"_

_I gave a dry chuckle "They've been wonderful, they're settling into the apartment upstairs to be closer to us if we need help. And it's not just them the entire family's chipping in. Dad's said I can take as much leave as I need, mum keeps on sending food hampers over, and Tugger's been taking the kids to the movies and the zoo and the modeling booth and everything."_

"_He didn't give a 'demonstration' did he?" For the first time in weeks I gave a real laugh._

"_No he's been a brick, distracting the kids from all this."_

"_How are the kids, are they holding up well?"_

"_They've been amazing. Vicky's acting just like a little mum and Plato's been trying to help out by doing odd jobs for me."_

"_Really?"_

"_Yeah, I caught him trying to chop wood for the fire the other day. And the twins are trying ever so hard to be good; they don't know what to do with themselves. And Jemmy… oh Jemmy" I buried my head in my arms._

"_what is it Munk?"_

"_she said her first sentence today"_

"_what was it?"_

"_mummy come home?"_

"_oh Munkus" _

_I turned away and furiously scrubbed away the tears in my eyes before turning to face her again "H…how've you been anyway". She gave me a you're-not-wriggling-out-of-this-one look and took over the conversation._

"_So the kids are okay?"_

"_Yeah, they're doing their best to pull their socks up, I'm so proud of them Deme"_

"_You should be, they know how to stick together and work as a team. It's you I'm worried about"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I mean that you're on your own, trying to raise a family solo and hold down a job and trying to sort your life out and working yourself to a rag in general. And I think that the way you're going seems to be towards a first class breakdown. Sooner rather than later would be my guess."_

_I massaged my temples. In any other situation my pride would've made me flat out deny what she was saying, no matter how right she was. But I was exhausted and desperate and retained enough common sense to see that she was right._

"_I Could use some help in the house" I admitted "just with things like doing the laundry, and buying school supplies and putting the kids to bed. Don't get me wrong, Jenny and Skimble have been fabulous but they both still work and have already done so much for us." _

"_So it's really just short term help you need?"_

"_Yeah, just for the next few months or so, I don't suppose you know someone who's willing to look after a poor ol' cop and his five kids do you?" I was only half joking when I said that but Demeter nodded thoughtfully._

"_I'll see what I can do. You hang in there Munkus, it'll be alright eventually."_

"_I know, thanks Deme" _

Two weeks later Demeter called saying that she'd sent someone over and they'd be arriving late thins evening. So I'd fixed up the box room with a mattress and bedding and then sat down in the living room at tem to try and put the Christmas tree us just as Griddlebone had done every year for the children. She used to have the tree up in a jiffy and would spend the rest of the evening arranging the ornaments and tinsel and colored light until it could've easily mistaken for a Christmas card. It was now eleven and I couldn't work out how to fit the branches together.

'_I can see now why she left. I'm useless, completely and utter useless. I can't even put a bloody tree together!'_

A timid knocking at the door temporarily paused my self-bashing fest. Pulling myself together somewhat I got up and answered the door. A small black and white tom was standing there wearing a wooly scarf around his neck and a pair of glasses, slightly askew, on the bridge of his nose. In one paw he pulled small suitcase on wheels and in the other he clutched a white envelope. The tom, seeing that I wasn't about to eat him alive stammered out a greeting.

"_H-hello sir, is this Munkustrap's h-house?" I blinked in surprise_

"_Yes it is, what can I do for you?" The tom, who I could now see was a tux, held out the envelope._

"_The student agency sent me here, the one your sister works for. I-I think she left you a note as well."_

_Sure enough, inside the envelope there was an official looking letter thanking me for giving a student the opportunity to work overseas and, more importantly, a letter from my sister explaining who this cat was._

_Dear Munkus_

_This cat's name is Mistoffelees and he's from North Carolina. He's a post grad student I picked out myself to come and help you with the house work etc. I know he doesn't look like much but he's proven himself to be an extremely capable and trustworthy Jellicle. He also likes dancing with a mop when washing the floor (we caught it on video!)_

_Much love_

_Deme (your big sister)_

_P.S. I'll email you his résumé (and the video) tomorrow. _

_I looked back up at the tux (Mistoffelees) he appeared to be waiting calmly but his ears gave him away by twitching nervously. _

"_Well I suppose you'd better come in Mistoffelees"_

"_T-Thank you sir"_

"_You don't have to call me sir. Munkustrap or Munk will to fine. I answer to idiot as well"_

"_Alright… Munkustrap."_

After showing Mistoffelees too his room I decided to call it a night and packed up the tree pieces. I half expected to find Mistoffelees gone along with the silverware the next morning, but at 10:30 when I woke up again I was pleased to find him in the box room unpacking his things. The kids were washed dressed and, had helped Misto find the cereal and bowls to have breakfast. It was phenomenal.

Slowly my life went back on track. I started to sleep better as episodes of distress like nightmares and bed wetting and fights at school faded with the kids having some stability in their lives once more. I started going to work for a few hours every day and we finally got on top of the laundry. Misto and I even got the tree up in time for Christmas although it took us several nights to work out how to make it stay upright. Instead of decorating it ourselves we let Vicky and Plato take charge; with Jerrie and Teazer as helpers and Jemmy perched on my shoulders to put the star in place.

I still missed Griddlebone and wished I could tell her how sorry I was and how much I still loved her, but overtime the raw pain had begun to fade, like a figure walking through the mist. I was starting to move on

Demeter had said that Misto would only be staying for a short while, but as it turned out Misto is still with us two years later. I'm sure Demeter has something to do with it but I haven't asked anything awkward. And to be honest, I don't think I really want to, I mean, why stop a good thing?

***********************************************End of Dream time!*******************************************************

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><p><strong>So you likes? Tell me!<strong>


	5. The Basement's Sectrets

**In this chapter we finally kick off the slash (cheers and whistles are heard in the background) there's also your usual dollop of death, preteens, violence, swearing, sarcasam and all that other glorious stuff that seems to find it's way into my fics. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>I woke up the next morning with a five year old jumping on my stomach.<p>

"Daaaaddy! Wake uuuuup!" sang Jemima I rolled onto my side and peered at the alarm clock. 7:03 am. Could I risk another ten minutes in bed?

Jemima, determined as a bulldog, snuggled into my back and started tickling my ear. I pretended to snore and rolled onto my back, gently crushing her into the bed. She shrieked excitedly "Daddy up!" and tugged at my t-shirt.

"I'm sleeping beauty" I mumbled "I won't wake up unless you give me a kiss"

Jemima considered this, and then lent down to give my cheek a big sloppy lick before scrambling up and dancing out my reach.

A little later I went to wake Plato up for kickboxing at nine. He was as sound asleep as only an adolescent tom can be. In the bed next to his Teazer had clambered into her twin's bed and they were both snuggled under the dinosaur duvet. Ever since Jerrie and Teazer were little we would find one of them had padded over to the other's bed during the night. I walked over to my son's and looked at his sleeping face before gently shaking them awake. "Wake up Plato, its kickboxing day today. Plato blinked at me sleepily.

"Huh?" he mumbled sitting up "why didn't my alarm go off?"

"It might've run out of battery" I suggested "why did you set it anyway"

"Cause I wanted to go jogging this morning" he answered "before breakfast I mean"

I was about to snap at him, since when did he start going out early to go jogging? Didn't he know how dangerous it was for a kid like him to be alone out on the streets? He could've been mugged, or kidnapped or…

I bit back my comments as I saw my son stand in front of the mirror. He flexed his arm muscles and looked at them worriedly. Although I certainly wouldn't call Plato scrawny, he was a lot more wiry that most of his friends which wasn't helped by his recent growth spurt that'd made him a good two inches taller than Misto (not that that was hard to do mind) but It did cause him a lot anxiety over whether his muscles were going to catch up or not.

Instead of lecturing him about his safety I laid my hand on his shoulder. "I'd rather you didn't go out by yourself yet, it makes me feel old." I grinned "but if you want to come with me to the gym sometime you can." Plato turned round and gave me a small smile.

"Thanks dad" he said

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><p>In the kitchen Misto was standing at the stove wearing a look of extreme concentration as he poured eggs into a frying pan. Setting the twins and Plato down with Jemima to watch <em>SpongeBob<em> I walked over to Misto. He'd finished pouring and was now swirling the omelette around making sure he covered every inch of the pan. When the tux first came over he could barely do beans on toast, as soon as he found out that he'd have to cater for a family of eight he pulled his sock up and learnt a fee recipes… with various degrees of success. Omelettes were one of the foods that he did well, provided that obsessively checked it ever thirty milliseconds. Something mischievous bubbled up inside me and I grinned wickedly. Tiptoeing up quietly until I was directly behind him, I gently tickled his shoulder. Misto shot up two feet into the air and knocked the frying pan off the stove. Whirling around him brandished the spatula threating. "You are so dead Munkustrap!"

Shaking with silent laughter I ran for it, Misto hot on my heels. Armed with the spatula he gave me an experimental thwack on the shoulder. I ducked around the fridge calling out gleefully "is that the best you can do?" I turned round, thinking that Misto was still out of reach and…

THWACK! The spatula caught me on the forehead just as I turned round to face Misto; he stood there not ten inches away holding his 'weapon' triumphantly above this head.

"There's more where that came from" smirked Misto. He was about to deliver another assault to my head when I grabbed the spatula and jumped away. "Hey that's cheating!" he cried out tearing after me. I stood in the middle of the kitchen and held the spatula high out of Misto's reach. He jumped up and down foolishly, completely unable to reach it.

"let's face it Misto" I said smugly "I wi-HAY NO FAIR!"

Misto had pulled my arm that wasn't holding the spatula behind my back. Holding it in place he reached up to pull my other arm down and retrieve the spatula. Just before his supple fingers grabbed the prize I tossed it away. Misto immediately let go of me and made a dash across the room to where it had fallen. Quick as a whip I rugby tackled him sending both of us crashing to the ground. Misto, half panting half laughing, tried to wriggle his way out of my grip to where the spatula lay just in his reach. I unwrapped one arm from the tux's waist and covered his eyes so he couldn't see where it was. Misto gave another snort of laughter and continued trying to find the spatula. His tail lashed out and smacked my thighs repeatedly "let me go you big boob"

"nu-uh" I chortled then leaning down do I could speak into his ear. "Not unless you call me Lord Munkustrap, ruler of the kitchen!"

"Never!" Misto managed to flex his hips upwards in a final bid to throw me off and…

"Should I just leave or something?" came a voice from above.

I bolted upright closely followed by a red faced Misto. We looked up to see a very amused Skimbleshanks looking down on us, dressed in his railway uniform. His eyes twinkled with mysterious knowledge and picked up the spatula. "I'll have one of those omelettes if you're not too busy Misto." Misto nodded, still blushing scarlet and accepted the spatula from the railway cat. He hurried away, hastily trying to smooth down the fur on his back.

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><p>At 8:47 I dropped Plato off at kickboxing where he immediately hurried over to his mates who were lounging on the crash mats. I would've liked to stay and watch them but that'd be seriously uncool on all frints, besides my Christmas leave hadn't actually started yet. I drove to the police station and parked in a parking lot reserved for employees. Waiting at my desk was a stack of interviews from Elizabeth's neighbors and relatives, reports from the forensic lab, a few letters to my dad that had been mistakenly sent to me and an invitation from Bustopher Jones cordially inviting me to a police function in two days' time. I tossed the invitation in the bin and handed my dad's letters to Pouncival. "Could you give these to Deuteronomy please, if he's not there then give them to Ling, she'll see that he gets them.<p>

Pouncival's face dropped a meter at this "B-but sir! I need to use the-"

"Ling's not that bad Pounce, her bark's worse that her bite"

"Last time I came she read to me two accounts of a rapist who shagged his girls with a friggin cucumber!" Pounce wailed dismally.

"Good reading those old crime files" I said lightly "you might learn something. Now off you trot."

Pounce slumped forwarded and took the letter upstairs where Ling would undoubtedly be lurking and turned to the leftover papers. Reading through the lab reports was a depressing business, the DNA testing of the blood and seamen found at the sight wouldn't be ready until tomorrow, and we already knew that the blood found was the victim's only. No finger prints or hairs were found indicating that our killer wore gloves and possibly a face mask. The post mortem revealed that the bullet had gone straight through Elizabeth's heart, killing her almost instantly. I also looked closely and the photos that had been faxed over with the report. Elizabeth's bruises were only faint due to the halting of blood circulation after being killed. For the same reason the cuts that covered her body had very little blood, exposing flesh and even a few ribs. Her face, by contrast, was unmarked and ghostly to look at. Her lips were parted slightly showing a pair of white teeth. One of her eyebrows was raised slightly. She hadn't known what the cat in front of her was going to do.

Reading the interviews was even more discouraging. Most of Elizabeth's neighbors were away on Christmas holidays and hadn't known a thing about her death until we told them. They all gave a similar description of her. Bright, clever and cheerful, but a nightmare to be opposing in court. No one could think of anyone outside the people she'd prosecuted who'd want to kill her. I set Cassandra to looking for any unstable clients Elizabeth'd had where they lost the case. While Admetus and Pepper looked through the much lengthier list of offender's she'd successfully persecuted. Meanwhile I tried to trace the gun which fired the slug that we'd thankfully recovered. A few quick scans later and I was heading down to the basement where our ballistics team worked. Down in the basement I spotted a familiar figure.

"Cori! What's the karate kid wannabee doing in a place like this?"

"I might ask the same of you Mr. Brady Bunch. Diapers aren't on sale till next week!"

With the ritual insults exchanged he indicated to where a cop was firing a pistol through what looked like a very bulky pair of trousers. "They're testing the new leg armour that I'll be wearing" he commented "you sweat like a pig in that stuff."

"I didn't think that leg armour was that common"

"It's not usually" explained Cori "but there's been an increase of violence on my gang's turf and leg armour's rapidly becoming the new black. What are you down here for then?"

"I'm trying to locate the gun that fired this little guy" I said showing him the plastic baggie that contained the slug." I should be getting the results any minute.

"Let me know who owns it" said Cori "and I'll try and find their address for ya."

A short while later I was reading through the report handed to me by one of the ballistics guys. "Holy Sh-suger" I exclaimed.

"What?" asked Cori, I showed him the report.

"The gun was made for the U.S army three years ago" I pointed to the second page "but they have no record of it being used since then" Cori's eyes narrowed as he examined the paper.

"The gun disappeared while it was being shipped to Iraq" he murmured. One finger scrolling down the page "and now it's randomly turned up in England, which has some of the strictest gun policy's in the world…"

"Weapon's smuggling!" We exclaimed simultaneously.

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><p><strong>Just before I wind this chapter up I have a few confessions to make<strong>

**1) I have absolutely no idea what kind of handguns are used in the U.S. army, but if anyone could tell me I'd be supremely grateful**

**2) When needing inspiration for writing 'I close my eyes' I vetured deep into the mind of my good friend SteamPunk'93 without her permission**

**3) I was creeped out by some of the stuff I found there**

**4) 'Fat Al Attraction' is what I sometimes call my brother, even though he has about as much fat as a stick insect**

**5) My cat is sitting next to me trying to divert my attention from the laptop to him**

**6) That's it!**

**R & R if you feel so disposed**


	6. A Lovely Body

**New chapter! this one contain more murder, racisim, sexual assult etc. **

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: please note that I'm making calicos the equvalent of people of african descent. Just for literary purposes and to make the killer seem more inhuman. If anyone feels offended by this please pm me and I'll change it (although I'd rather you didn't as calico thing becomes very important in later chapters, *hint hint*)**

**Also I won't be updating for a couple of day as my dad, brother and I are going on a camping trip! I'm really excited about it and it'll be interesting to see a) the natural wildlife in it's natural habitat in natural settings etc. b) whether the three of us can survive out in the bush for two days without killing each other in the process. \/**

**enjoy! **

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><p>Felicity Hayes was thinking about beverages, hot chocolate to be exact. Right now she'd kill to have something hot to sip on as she walked to her apartment in the frosty December air. Why'd she come to London again? Oh yes to train with her hockey team and play against some British teams. In just a few days they'd be leaving for Edinburgh where it'd be even colder! Checking her mailbox she found a squashy paper-wrapped parcel that'd been sent by her grandparents. She smiled and hugged it close to her chest. Ever since she was tiny her Nana had knitted her a jumper out of feather wool (she was allergic to regular wool) and mailed it to her in time for Christmas. Felicity sighed happily, she'd have to write to her Nana and tell her how grateful she was for the timely gift.<p>

***Killer's pov***

He watched her reach into her sports bag and fumble around for her keys. First she tried one side pocket, then the next. Then she dropped that ridiculous parcel of hers and open the bag's main compartment. A smirk crept up his face at the sight of her growing agitation. He did a last minute check over, (gloves, keys wallet etc) and walked over to her, the very picture of your anonymous citizen on his long leather coat and dark trilby. Everything was perfect.

"Excuse me, are these yours?" he held up the girl's set of keys "I found them on the sidewalk." The girl, who he knew was called Felicity stepped forward and delightfully accepted the keys.

"Thank you so much!" she gushed "I have to get in and out of my apartment very quickly and losing my keys would be a nightmare".

He knew what she was saying was true. She only had an hour for lunch break before she had to rush off to her job at a canteen. Why she didn't just head straight over to the canteen and have lunch there was a mystery to him, but that wasn't important, what was important was hey body, her fur pattern, what she was.

"You're welcome" he smiled charmingly "I'm Moriarty by the way, I've just moved into the flat above yours."

"Oh really? Well give me a yell if you need anything. I've been living here for six months so I know my way around fairly well."

"Will do, actually could you help me with this?" he moved to draw out a copy the London street directory from his breast pocket, fingering the bulge at his left hip as he did so. The calico queen leaned forward to examine it. Quick as a flash he whipped out his gun, angled it upwards and shot her through the heart. Felicity's body narrowly missed him as she crumpled face forward onto the pavement. He pulled and empty MacDonald's roughly over her head and rolled her over onto her back. Greedily he pulled up her sweater to reveal a red sports bra with a cheeky amount of cleavage. Drawing his knife out he made a cut right down to her midsection, savoring his pleasure.

"You and your people never deserved to be 'liberated' from the cotton fields' he whispered in her soundless ear, his hand already straying towards his pants "You lie, you steal, and you sit on your lazy bums all day living like pigs. You're an animal, albeit one with a lovely body."

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><p><strong>Did you see it? did you see it! It's Your first clue to to who the psycopathic serial killer it! He calls himself Moriarty. and where does Moriarty come from? Sherlock Holmes! Can you guess who it is now? (Don't you dare tell them Stempunk!)...anyone...anyone at all?...<strong>


	7. Apathy by the Gallon

**I rewrote the chapter so many times it's not even funny! But I hope you like it because I checked it for grammar about a dozen times to.**

**Warning!: This chapter contains examples of my forensic nerdyness including past serial killers, tecnical terms, not so tecnical terms and witnesses. It also has the usual amount of swearing, suggested violence/sexual abuse, the media and candid talks on women's lingerie.**

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><p>Cori and I trolled away through the UK's illegal trafficking reports till lunchtime trying to find a likely weapon's dealer who had the ability to smuggle military weapons from the USA to Britain. We found several.<p>

"You know" I remarked "I'd be a lot happier if we didn't find any one who could've done this"

"Why?" Cori asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because it would mean that the secret service was actually doing its job and busting these douche's chops out a business."

"That would be great" Cori agreed "but where would that leave your case?"

"There wouldn't _be_ a case" I pointed out.

At noon we left the basement and parted ways. Cori said that he'd ask his fellas about some of our more likely dealers and I headed up to the top floor where dad's office was to give him our latest findings.

"Merry Christmas Ling" I greeted dad's secretary pleasantly. Ling glanced up from where she had a rookie officer gazing at a thirty year old autopsy photo. The kid looked slightly green.

"Hello Straps" greeted Ling "this fellow and I have been going over a few of Ted Bundy's cases*. A fascinating study wouldn't you say?" her grin was a little too toothy to be considered safe.

"…uh…yes, certainly" I replied

"Very much so" the kid agreed weakly. I gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Now you'll be wanting to see Deuteronomy" she continued briskly "well he just went out for lunch, I don't think he'll be back for a while, Bustopher was with him and you know what he's like."

I nodded, indeed I do know what Bustopher's like... Victor says that he's a cat with a deep interest and appreciation for the police force and simply exercises his wealth to satisfy his curiosity in a way that most Jellicles would not be able to afford.

Pounce calls him a cop buddy wannabe.

"Do you want me to arrange an appointment with him?" asked Ling abandoning to autopsy photos (much to the young cop's relief) and turning her attention back to the computer.

"No that's alright, I'll go grab some lunch." replied and headed back out the door. Behind me I could hear Ling saying "well let's leave Bundy for a while and turn to John List*. He avoided capture for nearly 18 years you know…"

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><p>Rather than heading to the overcrowded canteen I walked a few streets to the local shopping center's food court for some lunch at Koyal's Korma which I know for a fact that makes a beef vindaloo to die for. The spicy Indian cuisine was lost on me however for as soon as I sat down a stray newspaper lying on the table caught my eye. A large photograph of Elizabeth Maclaby garnished the front page with the gaudy title MACKLABY MURDERED: LONDON'S LAWYER FOUND STRUNG FROM A TREE LAST EVENING.<p>

I read on, fingers crossed for a nice touching account that kept the public politely informed whilst remaining un-speculative out of respect for the victim's family, it wasn't my lucky day.

At around ten fifteen last night the body of Elizabeth Maclaby,

London's celebrated lawyer, was found strung from a tree outside

her home. Her body had been severely mutilated by a night and

sexual abuse is also suspected. Friends of the renowned underdog

fighter report that she spoke frequently of other lawyers who

we're 'not at all happy' about losing high profile cases to attorney

who hadn't even earned her degree in Britain (Ms Maclaby was

a graduate of Elon University, America)

"I always knew something like this would happen" said a neigh…

I stopped reading there and tore up the newspaper first into fourths, then into the eighths, then threw the pieces into the bin but it was no use, the tactless text was already imprinted in my head and was staying there with a vengeance. I considered banging my head against the table but for all intents and purposes, it probably wouldn't do anything.

"Bad morning Munkus?" a familiar voice asked.

"Bad night rather" I mumbled "you probably read it in the paper this morning".

"You mean the lawyer person who was murdered? Yeah that is a grim night. Slide over would you?"

I looked over at Tugger as he helped himself to my vindaloo and stifled a giggle. We Jellicles don't wear clothes that often and fashion is only taken seriously by a few. Tugger however was decked to the nines in black skinny jeans, yellow converse and a shirt that had the second loudest pattern I've every scene, his jacket print was absolutely the loudest. If he'd been a stranger I would have called him trendy, but as he was my brother I only said,

"You look like a walking Picasso add"

Tugger puffed up his chest and winked roguishly over my shoulder, about two feet away a queen squealed "that's the intention" he smirked. I rolled my eyes

"So aside from embarrassing yourself…"

"I never embarrass myself!"

"So aside from not-embarrassing yourself what've you been up to?"

"I've been Christmas shopping!" Tugger announced proudly "I brought this great present for Deme" he patted the shopping bag he was carrying.

"Can I see it?" I asked. Tugger shrugged and passed the bag over.

"It's only some clothes that I think would look good on her" he said almost modestly. I lifted the contents out and nearly dropped the bag.

"Tugger!" I exclaimed "what were you thinking?"

"that they'd make a good present" replied Tugger "I mean what's wrong with a little..."

"you brought Deme underwear!"

"...and?"

"w…well" I stammered "how do you even know her size?"

"I'm an expert. Can tell a ladies size in three seconds flat" Tugger puffed himself up proudly "And it's not as if you can live with a woman and _not_ know, I mean didn't you know Griddle's size?"

"Yes, but…"

"So why shouldn't we know our sister's?"

"Because she's our sister!" I flustered causing more than a few heads to turn and look in our direction.

Tugger, now looking very smug, wisely decided to change the subject. "So what did you get Misto this year?"

I sighed, knowing better than to continue with our original 'discussion'.

"I brought him a laptop skin, for his computer. It's got a picture of the sunset on it."

Tugger nodded thoughtfullyly "That sounds nice"

Unknowingly I started to grin "the idea is that whenever he stressing over coursework he can just turn the laptop round and watch the sunset"

Tugger tried not to laugh "very romantic of you Munkus"

"It's not romantic" I rebutted "I just know how worked up he can get over his assignments"

"Whatever you say brother" Tugger smiled knowingly before getting up from the bench and strutting out of the food court. As soon as he was gone a dozen queens or more left their tables and 'nonchalantly' hurried after him. I dug into what was left of the vindaloo finally able to enjoy it without thinking about blood and bodies. Tugger has that effect on people. He gets you so worked up that whatever was biting at you was chased away. I wondered why he'd asked what I'd gotten for Misto. He hadn't asked what I was giving him last year (a new scarf to replace his old one). Maybe he was still looking for a present for the tux? I thought chewing steadily.

Tugger's 'treatment' for breaking up the no exit roundabout that my mind was making out my current case worked for exactly four minutes and seventeen blessed seconds before my phone rang dad's ringtone for the second time in as many days. I closed my eyes and prayed for a miracle before flipping it open

"Hello sir" I answered smartly "what's the news?"

"Bad news Munkus" my father's voice came back grimly "We have another homicide case, a young queen was found dead outside her flat not fifteen minutes ago. She had a single bullet to the heart, multiple cuts to her body, we haven't yet determined is there was sexual assault but…"

"what's the address?"

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><p>The street where Maclaby was killed had been fairly deserted thanks to the lateness of the hour and the neighbors all being on holiday. At the streets leading up to where the queen we later identified at Felicity Hays laid it was like trying to elbow your way to the door of a train at rush hour. Reporters were snapping pictures and shouting out question to anyone that looked slightly official. Teenagers were holding up mobiles and recording and a vast sea of people were simply standing there gawping and contaminating the crime scene.<p>

"Hello Victor" I grunted as I squeezed past the crowd to the street where Felicity lay."

Victor, who was standing at the edge of the tape, nodded me through and grumbled "bloody civilians, think this is a circus they do."

"They haven't crossed the line yet" I tried to reassure.

"_yet_" he stretched the monosyllable into three.

A skinny cop that I didn't know the name of appeared out of the police van. Armed with a megaphone he started calling out to the crowd in a fluctuating voice. "Alright everyone, t-there isn't anything to see here , s-so if you could please…"

"Oh give that here" said Victor snatching the megaphone out of the kid's hand "let me show you how it's done". Winking at the cop and then at me he raised the device high over his head until it issued a high pitched wail. Every Jellicle within a thirty meter radius (myself included) covered their ears as the shrieking sound continued for a good five seconds. "Listen up!" Victor shouted into the microphone "we have a murdered girl behind this tape and we're doing our best to find out whom. Do you want to help us or what?" Most of the Jellicles nodded in agreement. Victor smiled and blasted into the megaphone "THEN GET YOUR FURRY ARSES OFF THE BLOODY CRIME SCENCE!"

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><p>"So you think it might be the same guy who shot Maclaby?" I asked as I meticulously searched through some unnecessarily prickly shrubs.<p>

"It's early on but I think so" agreed Cassandra

"The victim's races and ages are different" I mused shifting my gloved fingers through the damp soil "but the MO* is almost identical to Macklaby's killer"

I continued squirreling around while Cassandra pulled out her note pad. "Alright" she announced tucking her pen behind her ear. "The passport in the bag found next to the body says that Felicity's twenty three and lives in America. I'm not too sure what she's doing in Britain in the middle of winter but my guess would be that she's getting some sort of sports training? Maybe tennis judging by the callouses on her hands."

"Lacrosse or hockey"

"Pardon?"

"She's most likely a lacrosse or hockey player. The callouses we found on her hands were of roughly equal amount, if she'd been a tennis player it would have been mostly on one hand." I explained while gently digging around a shapeless metallic object from the buried leaves "ah ha! Found the little devil"I motioned for Cassandra to take photos of the slug whilst I changed gloves, and took another look at the excruciatingly youthful face of Felicity.

She was a calico, just like Jerrie and Teazer. She even looked a little like them, like a cousin or an older sister perhaps. There was even a certain mischievous crinkle around her mouth that was identical to my rambunctious adopted daughter. I imagined what Teazer would look like at twenty three… and found that I had to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

My phone started beeping so I hurriedly dabbed my eyed with my coat sleeve and answered "This is Munkustrap speaking"

"Hi Munkus I traced the address that we found on the parcel and found Hay's grandparents" said Pepper triumphantly "them and her parents are being interviewed right now. Oh yeah and Pounce says get your tail over here this instant."

"Why Pepsi?"

Pepper's voice rose an octave with every word "We've got a…" the last word was in the stratosphere but I still caught it.

"You're kidding me" I answered "you mean we've actually got a…"

"What've we got?" asked Cassandra who was still in the dark

"We've got a witness for Maclaby's murder!" I thrilled

Needless to say high fives of epic propulsion were soon exchanged.

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><p><strong>*Ted Bundy was a serial murderrapist is extimated to have killed over 30 women during the 1970's. He is thankfully now dead.**

***John List was an accountant who murdered his family in 1971 and was not caputured untill 1989. He too is now deceased.**

***MO stands for Modus Operandi which is latin for 'mode of operation' and is a common term in criminal profiling.**

**I'm quite glad that I found a good title for this chapter, for the past two weeks I've simply been refering to it as 'underwear' . **

**R & R if you feel so disposed**


	8. Bangers and Mash

**This chapter and the next one were originally one big one untill I decided to split them into two for literary purposes, i.e to to keep you guys hanging! };). This chapter will mostly be devoted to Munku's case whilst the next one (which I'll post up in a few days) will be about him and his family... and Misto ;).**

**Warning: this chapter contains swearing, sibling fights, fuzzies, arguably the best (or worst) pun I've every made and good ol' Munkus torture!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>"Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts" <em>Sherlock Homes in _A Sacandal in Bohemia_

My heart was thumping in my ears with excitement as Pepper and I walked into the interview room to meet our witness. Pepper made the formal introductions.

Munkustrap this is Miss Etcetera Roberts, the lady who I mentioned before. Etcetera this is Detective Inspector Munkustrap; he's in charge of the investigation."

I smiled and offered my hand to the cream colored queen. She was dressed neatly in a winter blouse and black pants and had a pleasant face carefully touched with only a little make up. In fact the only thing that betrayed her self-assured manner was the tremble of her paw I felt through my fingers as we shook hands and the slight twitching of her ears to try and listen for anything behind her. This queen had seen something that frightened her, something that (if she told me) could help our investigation.

"How do you do Etcetera, I'm sorry that we took so long to get here, how are you?"

"I'm alright Munkustrap sir. I-I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I just didn't think what I saw was important until, until."

I nodded at Pepper to start the recorder and led Etcetera back to the table. "How about we get seated first and then you can tell us everything from start to finish."

Etcetera nodded gratefully and sat down in in a chair at one end of the table while Pepper and I took the chairs on the other side.

"W-Where should I start?" she asked"

"Wherever you like" said Pepper.

"How about you start from when you left home last night" I encouraged

"Well last night was Saturday night, and me and my friends were all meeting up to go to some of the clubs." Explained Etcetera "I-I was running late and was walking really fast to get there on time. A-And when I walking along the street that Maclaby lived in, I-I bumped into this tom going in the opposite direction. I was kinda cross because he messed up my head fur and I snapped at him and walked off. I-I heard a bang a couple of streets later and I-I thought it was a-a firework." Her lips trembled and for the first time I saw real pain flash across her face. "A-And it wasn't till this morning, w-when I read the papers, t-that I realized what happened, and, and, oh everlasting!"

The young queen buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling and in obvious need of comfort. Pepper looked at me and I nodded. She pushed forward a box of tissues giving the distraught witness a quick pat on the wrist before drawing back to wait for the tears to stop. Anybody watching us at this moment would've called us utter scumbags for being so cold to this outward display of emotion but believe me, every ounce of our sympathies were lying with this queen. In fact there was nothing more that I wanted to do than to rush over and soothe her distress in a similar way to how I'd soothe one of my own children. But in the time it'd take to console her (quite possibly an hour more more) our killer would be slipping further and further from our grasp and placing more lives at risk. And so, to keep our window of opportunity open we had to maintain our distance and indirectly show the witness's our priorities, we weren't there for their emotional baggage, but for their baggage of information.

As soon as Etcetera'd tears looked like they were going to subside we started asking questions.

"Did this tom say anything when you bumped into him?" I probed gently. Etcetera shook her head uncertainly.

"Not really, h-he growled something that sounded like 'little-slut' when I called him an idiot, b-but nothing else, and I heard his footsteps starting up again a few seconds later"

"Why do you think he called you that?"

Etcetera blew her nose with a tissue "I-I don't know, I might've annoyed him with my idiot comment, or maybe he didn't like my outfit."

"Can you tell us what this tom looked like?"

The young queen shook her head "not really, It was really dark" She shut her eyes doing her best to remember "he had a long coat made of leather, and he wore a trilby over his head. I-I _think_ he had ginger fur, yeah he had ginger fur I saw it poking untidily out from the top of his coat. And he carried a briefcase in his hand, it was only a small one but I could still hear stuff bumping around in it."

"Can you remember anything else about that incident?" asked Pepper "anything… unusual, or strange?" Etcetera thought and nodded.

"Y-you know how everyone walks on the left side of the footpath, same as driving*" both Pepper and I nodded "well this guy was walking the side of the path closest to the road, even though his 'left would've been the opposite, I noticed that because that's what made us bump into each other, he didn't step aside to let me pass. I didn't really think about it at the time. Do you understand my explanation?"

Pepper and I once more looked at each other, each of us knowing what we had to say next. I gave her another tiny nod and turned to look at Etcetera. I leant forward until my eyes were staring straight into hers.

"Etcetera" I asked "would you be willing to testify to everything you just told us?"

There was a few heavy seconds where Etcetera processed my request. Beneath the table my fingers crossed so hard that they started trembling.

"Yes, yes I would" said Etcetera.

* * *

><p>Whilst Pepper hurried off to distribute the interview to the rest of the team I escorted Etcetera to the public car park. "So was anything I said helpful?" she asked as we entered the lift<p>

"Everything is helpful" I shrugged "except for the stuff that doesn't. Did you're evening go well then?"

"Pardon?"

"You said that on that night you and your friends were heading out for the night"

"Oh yeah, it went really well, a good night out, you know."

"Did you head over to _The Raging Pollicle_ at all?"

"Well _duh_ it's the-"

I continued asking open ended questions about Etcetera's night out until the shadows that were forming under her eyes started to fade. The best thing that Etcetera could do for herself right now was to realize that Maclaby's killing wasn't her fault and move on. Of course I knew next to nothing about the 'hot' clubs around London except the ones where drug lords like Fat Al liked to do business but we managed to maintain a steady conversation until we reached the carpark. She even showed me a photo of herself and her friends posing as they set off for their night out together.

"That's me right there" she pointed out to me "those heels are a nightmare to walk in"

I peered at the photo closely. The six inch stilettos did look ankle achingly high, but she was wearing them well however with an air of practiced ease. The rest of her outfit did display a fair of amount of legs and cleavage, but I'd seen _far_ worse in my work on the streets, indeed the first word I'd pick for describing her appearance wouldn't be slutty as our killer apparently did, but stylish as my brother would've.

Back at the office I found a message from my father saying that a meeting had been organized by the lord mayor between Scotland department of homicide and some of London's other top investigative officials to 'pool our resources' as it were.

"Oh great, just great" I gave a frustrated sigh "now we're going to have to give them a convincing report so the blasted MI5* doesn't snatch our case, MY case away."

* * *

><p>"The entire department, sensing the urgency, seemed to redouble its efforts. The ballistics report came back confirming that the separate bullets were fired by the same illicit gun. A forensic artist was listening to the witness recording trying to create a portrait of the killer from the halting descriptions Etcetera had been given. The autopsy report was on its way. That left Cassandra and I to examine the evidence again and try to decipher who this ginger furred maniac was.<p>

"I have no how it all fits" I announced after a good half hour "If they were both lawyers then we'd know it was some guy against the legal system. If they were both sporting stars we'd know he was some jock who was seeking revenge for his carrier failure. Apart from the fact that these two queens were successful, there's nothing in common!"

"They're both successful…they were both successful… they were both…successful WOMEN" Cassandra exclaimed "That's got to be it he's targeting queens who've broken through the glass ceiling." I looked at her doubtfully.

"Are you sure about that Cassy? I mean I'm not saying that there aren't any anti-feminists around, but most of them aren't crazy enough to go round killing queens for the sake of it, they're not even smart enough to wear gloves to cover their tracks usually."

"This one does, he's a smart and sadistic" she argued "he enjoys the power he gets over them by banging them with a gun, then banging them with his dick, then after messing the bodies up with a knife he goes away to laugh at us scratching our heads over his bangers-and-mash. In short, he's a complete psychopath." She finished triumphantly. I gave her a 'look'.

"Bangers and mash?"

"Just let me look through the records to see if anything like this's come up in the past" she pleaded. I considered her words, whilst it explained how the killings pretty well, I couldn't help thinking that was something more to it, something that we'd missed. But for now there wasn't time to start looking for it. But although I was convinced that there was something else, I had no idea what the something else might be. In the meantime I had a meeting to attend with the most influential people in the city and in the absence of hard-core evidence to convict out killer, we needed a hard core theory to convince them that we'd convict him soon. More

"Alright Cassy" I said "do what you have to do and report to me as soon as you've found anything. I'll be right back but you can call me on my mobile if you need anything." I stood up and headed out the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Cassy

"To organize my suit for tomorrow's meeting." I answered unhappily "If you're gonna to be socializing with the crème a la crème of the MPS you've gotta look like one." Cassandra's eyes gleamed with amusement and a quiet chuckle burst from her lips.

"Try not to have too much fun" she sniggered.

"I'll try not to" I promised her dryly and left before anyone could give me any dress recommendations.

* * *

><p>Arriving at home the first thing I should have done would be to put my one, slightly rumpled suit in the wash, ask Misto or Jenny to iron and head straight back to Scotland yard to try and get as much work crammed in the one hour left before the official working day finished. But I didn't. Instead I went and found Jerrie and Teazer playing with the contents of a beanbag of the floor of the boy's room.<p>

"Hey guys, daddy's…"

"Daddy!" They hollered joyfully jumping up at once and sprinting over. I knelt down to gather them up in my arms. I was getting covered in little white foam balls as I did so but didn't care a bit. Burying my head in their multicolored head fur I let out a breath that I'd been holding since first seeing the body of Felicity Hays, a calico just like them. The twins, sensing my fragility looped their skinny arms around and let me hold them for a good five seconds more than they'd usually tolerate.

"Are you okay Daddy?" asked Teazer once I'd finally let them wriggle free of my grasp.

"Yes of course, Daddy just had a bad day at work, he'll be fine" I reassured them. Satisfied they turned their attention back to emptying the contents of the beanbag onto the floor, and then rolling about in it till the baubles covered their fur. I watched them amused until I noticed whose beanbag it was.

"Teazer, why did you take your beanbag to Jerrie's room to destroy? Doesn't the carpet have enough static?"

"Cause Vicky won't let us play there" answered Teazer

"she says she's getting ready for her date" continued Jerrie

Red light signals went up in my mind flashing alarmingly

"Who's she going on a date with?" I asked, sounding almost casual

"Dunno, but she's got heels and make up and lipstick and urrrgh!" Jerrie shuddered with revulsion.

A siren was added to the red flashing lights.

"I'm _never_ going to wear lipstick" announced Teazer.

"But you'll have to wear lipstick one day, when you're older" Jerrie pointed out "cause you're a girl"

"No I won't"

"Yes you will"

"Won't!"

"Will!"

"Won't!"

"Will!"

"Won't!"

"Will!"

"Won-ARRGH!"

"Jerrie, don't push your sister" I remarked airily as I headed to seek out my eldest daughter.

* * *

><p><strong>* People who live in Britian, Australia (hooray!), India and several other countries drive on the left hand side of the road and our walking habbits follow likewise.<strong>

*** MI5 is a British intelligance organisation similar to the FBI in America.**

**Please don't start thinking that Cassandra in just fireing at random targets here, she's on the right track but we can't have her outshining our silver furred hero now can we?**

**R & R if you feel so disposed**


	9. Defrosting One's Whiskers

**OMG this is the loooooooongest chapter I've ever published, a total of 3888 words, and that's not including my personal comments!**

**Warning: this is a fluffy chapter! one of the handful I've ever written and probably the only one I've written that's of reasonable quality. It also includes some swearing, teenage angst, Munkus torture, Misto torture, and Victoria torture (if you count wearing six inch heels as torture which it certainly do!)**

**I dedicate this chapter to my dad who once informed my that, "seeing young men look at your daughter in a certain way can be very unnerving". And to the juniors in the boarding house whose tween-ny behaviour annoys and amuses me in equal amounts.**

* * *

><p>"The first thing I did when I found out my baby was going to be a girl was head to the sports department and buy myself a baseball bat." <em>A spokesperson that I can't remember the name of.<em>

"Permission to enter" I called out cautiously as I stood outside the door that led to the girl's Empire *cough* room.

"Is that you dad?" Victoria called out

"The one and only"

"Just give me a few minutes!"

"Okay"

While Victoria continued shuffling round the room I waited anxiously outside with the back of my head pressed hard against the wall. I was terrified. The day your daughter starts seeking romance for herself is without a doubt the most frightening and unexpected thing a father can experience, though in hindsight I should've seen it coming. I had colleagues whose _ten_ year olds consulted tween magazines like they were scientific journals and begged their parents for forkfuls of dosh for bags, shoes, nail polish, perfume and all the other essential tools for attracting 'boys of the opposite sex'.* My daughter was a big girl of fourteen; no wait she wasn't a big girl yet, she was still my baby!

'_Keep it together Munkustrap, you're a trained professional, just keep your cool and it'll all be fine.'_

"Do I look alright daddy?"

'_Annnd it just got worse'_

Vicky was clad in a dress that would have worked for a queen of twenty one, but for a girl of fourteen who had yet become comfortable with her body it clung with ferocity around her sides and disappeared altogether well before it even glimpsed the ground. Strappy heels that clomped loudly adorned her feet which already looked sore from the effort of walking. Mercifully her fur had been left alone but her already perfect face looked like had been painted on with a trowel, alternating with shiny lip gloss and anxious eyes desperately searching for my approval.

Why did my angel think she needed to get decked up like a trembling bratz doll to get a boy's attention? When she looked absolutely gorgeous the way she was.

"Daddy, do I look okay? Is the dress too short? I'm sorry I-I just really wanted to look, t-to look…"

"You look amazing Vicky, really you do, It's just…"

"What dad? do I look trashy?"

"No, no of course not!

"Do I look too desperate?" asked Vicky horrified "you're right I should've just said no because I'd sprained my ankle or…"

"Hello Munkustrap, hello Vicky, oh you're all dressed up I see." Mistoffelees's head was poked round the corner and had caught sight of us.

"Hello Misto" I said jumping at the chance for someone to back me up "I was just saying to Vicky that…"

"I look completely horrible" said my daughter, miserably leaning against the wall weighed down by her own failure. Misto walked into the hallway with his satchel of books swaying at his side

"Would your daddy ever call you horrible?" he asked.

Victoria shrugged. The tux looked at me, one eyebrow raised slightly. I shook my head adamantly and he gave me a small nod showing that he understood.

Turning back to Victoria he studied her outfit closely. "Can I see the rest of your dress Vicky?" he asked. Vicky made a reluctant three-sixty and for a fraction of a second when her back was turned I saw him give a small grimace. When she was facing him once more he smiled and gently touched her shoulder. "I think that all Munkus was trying to say dear, was that your make up is a little uneven."

"It that all?" asked Vicky bringing one paw up to touch her cheek "Oh Everlasting I didn't realize!"

"Would you like me to help you?" he offered. I glanced at the tux, since when did he know anything about makeup?

"Please?" Victoria looked up hopefully "Oh but I've gotta be at the movie theatre by five!"

"I can drive you don't worry" I stepped forward and placed my paw on her other shoulder "and if you tell me around what time the movie finishes I can probably work it out so that I can pick you up as well."

"You would do that?" Victoria looked at me in wonder

"For my little girl?" I held out my arms and she rushed forward to hug me with delight.

"Thank you dad!" she said, resting her head against mine. When had she become so tall?

Standing back I let her stumble back into her room closely followed by Misto who left his satchel with me in the hallway "Hey Vicky" he said "you can kick those shoes off for a bit if you like, you don't want to tire your ankles out before you even leave the house."

"They are a bit sore" admitted Victoria sitting down and undoing the buckles "but they're my best ones."

"They do look very nice" he agreed. Then he turned to give me a huge wink before closing the door. "How about we put them back in the cupboard, so we don't trip over them in the meantime."

Over half an hour later I was allowed to walk inside and see her 'transformation'. The first thing I did was let out a soft "wow" which got Victoria's attention and she turned towards me.

"D-Do I look pretty Daddy?" she asked shyly.

Pretty did not begin to describe it.

Mistoffelees had worked his magic (not in the literal sense) with amazing precision and, although I may be biased, I thought she looked incredible.

Somehow he'd nudged her into the decision to forgo the dress and exchange it with a singlet top and skirt complete with a matching cardigan. The six inch stilettos had been swapped as well, with a pair of sandals that only had about three inches of heel to them and looked considerably easier to walk in. And although I've never seen Misto within five kilometers of a makeup bag he certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Most of the foundation had been taken off (I spied a large pile wipes in the rubbish bin) and her lipstick was now a delicate shade of pink. Overall, although I still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of a skirt or heels, her obviously relieved look at still looking somewhat fashionable won me over.

"You look stunning" I told her and a delighted grin spread across her face.

Did I mention that Mistoffelees must be the most amazing tom this side of the Atlantic?

* * *

><p>My private Fairy Godmother said that he needed to head back to his university's campus so it was just Victoria and I in the car as I drove her to the cinema. For the first few minutes she was quiet and then she began to cautiously ask a few questions.<p>

"Do you mind this dad? Me going a date I mean"

"Of course not Vicky" I answered "I'm pretty nervous but I don't mind it at all."

"_You're _nervous?"

"You betcha"

"Why?"

"I-It's a father thing, to be nervous when our girls start dating, it's part of our job description."

In the passenger's seat I saw Victoria bite back a smirk and fiddle with a piece of fur on her knee.

"Were you nervous when you started dating mum?"

"Extremely"

"Why?"

I didn't answer right away, this was delicate ground we were treading on but I wanted to answer her as truthfully as I could.

"Well, because she seemed so amazingly gorgeous and smart to book that I was constantly afraid of making myself look foolish, or desperate, or stupid for that matter, in front of her."

"Did you ever stuff up?"

"Plenty of times, and not just when dating your mother, just about everyone I've dated can report a time I've made myself look like an idiot" I looked at Victoria and gave her a reassuring grin "don't worry, I don't thinks it's hereditary."

"I sure hope not" giggled Victoria before her face went somber "so, so why did mum leave us? Why did she stop loving you?"

Ah the million dollar question. All thoughts, theories and rehearsed answers were swept out of my head as soon as I tried to grasp them.

"S-sometimes matehood just doesn't work out" I replied "the couple realizes that this wasn't what they wanted. Sometimes there are other things involved as well. But I know that your mother, wherever she is, still loves you, all of you." Victoria pursed her lips, she remembered all too well what Griddlebone was like in the last few years of our marriage and I knew that those memories left her with serious doubts about the latter statement.

"Were 'other things involved' with you guys?"

"I think so. Your mother, she was put under a lot of strain in her later years, what with Jerrie and Teazer coming to live with us, and then my promotions at work which kept me busy, and I think she might've developed a little Postpartum after Jemmy was born."

"But wasn't Jemmy born with a C-section?"

"It's not only the way a baby's born that affects PPD. There are other factors as well."

"Oh" Victoria continued fiddling with the fur on her knee. "So uh, have you, you know, considered dating again at all?

I was starting to set a record for lengthy pauses today.

"I've considered it a few times" I answered at last "but I honestly don't think it'd be a good idea."

"Why?"

"Vicky, you know how my work is sometimes dangerous, and often keeps me from home for long hours?"

"Don't change the subject dad!"

"I'm not" I replied "I'm trying to explain my answer before I give it. I think you're old enough to understand, and it certainly won't make sense without it."

My daughter looked like she was about to protest, but at my acknowledgement of her maturity made her swallow it and straighten up slightly.

"I'm listening" she told me

"So as you know, being a cop is sometimes dangerous, getting shot at and suchlike. And I think that knowledge put a tremendous amount of stress on your mother."

"Put stress on her? But you were the one getting shot!"

"And she was the one sitting at home wondering when or even if I would come back that night. I know that later on she was rarely even home when I came back, but when you and Plato were small she nearly always used to stay up passed midnight when I had a case that needed long hours away from home. And that's why I don't think I should start dating again, at least not yet."

"Because it wouldn't be fair on whomever you were dating?"

"Precisely. Most toms or queens simply do not have the dedication, or the strength, to live with a cop. It takes a very special Jellicle to deal with that sort of lifestyle."

Victoria was silent for the next few minutes it took to locate an empty spot near the cinema and park. Just before she stepped out she gave me a quick hug.

"You have a great time Vicky" I croaked suddenly finding that a lump had appeared in my voice box.

"I will" she promised "Thanks for the lift, and the talk."

"You're welcome"

"Just so you know, if you um, do start dating someone. I'm okay with that. Just make sure we've met them first okay?"

"Okay" I promised "Will you do the same with me in the future?"

"I-I alright" said Victoria sheepishly "can I go now?"

"Of course" I answered. Then, not being able to resist a little ribbing, I added "remember, he's allowed to walk you home but you can't walk him home. Otherwise my baseball bat will be used for GBH."

Vicky rolled her eyes "you are _so_ funny dad"

"Glad you appreciate it" I grinned "See you at eight."

* * *

><p>As I was driving back home I thought about what Victoria had said about being okay with me dating. Although that was certainly a huge weight off my chest I still didn't think I'd be bringing anyone back home anytime soon. It wasn't as if I had a wide connection of 'friends' like my younger brother did.<p>

'_Let's see I've kept in touch with a few uni friends, which might be possible. Victor's straight, Cassandra would send me to a mental institution, and neither of them are my type anyway. Pepper and Pounce are far too young. And Ling? NO! Just no...'_

I forcefully shook all thoughts of having a relationship out of my head and drew my attentions back to the road in front of me. I was just pulling up to a red traffic light when all of a sudden the neon signs on either side, behind and in front of me flickered and went out making the familiar street look unexpectedly eerie. Toms and queens on both sidewalks looked at each other in surprise. Several drivers stopped abruptly in the middle of the road causing extra confusion. My thoughts instantly went to Victoria and I thought about turning round to collect her and driving us both home before the movie had even started, but then I decided against it. The cinema had a generator that could run the entire joint for twenty four hours so the movies would still be playing, and she'd probably be a lot safer inside there than on the road during the power cut where traffic was becoming hazardous. Besides, she probably wouldn't thank me for it.

When I got home the house was pitch black. I strained to listen for the usual chatter of voices that were present when I got home but I heard nothing. Where was my family? Then I spotted a flickering light on the second floor. Ah yes, Jenny and Skimble had probably rounded up the flock and taken them upstairs to wait until I got back, bless them. Deciding to grab a few extra candles and torches before joining them I groped my way along the hallway to the laundry where we kept them in a box beside the dryer. To my surprise someone was already there.

Mistoffelees was crouched on the floor of the laundry, his silhouette lightened only by the light of a few lamps and the candle he was holding. A box of matches was at his side and he was rubbing the bridge of his nose tenderly with one paw.

"Mistoffelees" I asked "what are you doing?"

He looked up at me, faintly embarressed"D-Defrosting my whiskers"

I raised my eyebrows. Frozen whiskers are a fairly common in winter for Jellicles, especially in the north. But this was _London, _and most cats, Mistoffelees included, were careful about going outside with...

"And before you ask I didn't go outside with damp whiskers"

"Then how?"

"Magic, my practical in class went a little haywire" answered the tux. Once again he tried to get the candle close enough to his whiskers without singeing them. He became more and more cross eyed as he tried to keep the candle in view but soon enough his hand rose a fraction too high and the delicate flame nearly caught his already reddening nose.

"Whoa hang on Misto" I cautioned, taking the candle out of grasp "you're going to burn your nose off like that."

"I suppose" said Misto mumbling slightly as he rubbed his nose once more "but there isn't any power so I can't warm up any water and unfreeze them that way."

"You won't need to" I said as I offered him a paw to help him stand up "I'll help you"

The tux glanced at my hand for a moment before reaching up and taking it "I-I, alright."

I made the tux sit on the couch while I fetched another candle, the lamps he was using, matches and a damp flannel, everything I remembered Griddle using when either I or the kittens had a case of chilled whiskers during a blackout. I could only recall a handful of time this had happened so I was quite proud that I seemed to have remembered everything. When I knelt in front of Misto, a lightened candle in one hand and the flannel in the other, he eyed me warily.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked as I tried to position the lamps so they illuminated his face.

"Of course" I said sounding a only little over confident "just hold still and it'll be fine"

First of all I gently wiped the flannel over his Vibrissae* melting the outer frost that covered them. That was the easy part. Then, starting from the very tip of his longest whisker I held the candle up and started rewarming the sensitive inner network of nerve endings. For a few seconds all went well then, Mistoffelees flinched with a sudden squeak and knocked the candle out of my hand. I realized quickly that I'd forgotten to locate one important piece of equipment, stress balls.

"Sorry sorry, are you alright Misto?"

"Y-yeah" said Misto gingerly trying to wrinkle his nose "is it always going to feel like that?"

"The first bit's the worst" I reassured him while trying to remember if we still _had_ any stress balls. They'd always been Griddles forte and I had a nasty feeling that we'd thrown them out last Easter. Nor did I want to risk breaking my neck by attempting to look for them in the darkened house. "Just… Just try thinking of palm trees or something until we're finished."

"I, alright" said Misto closing his eyes. I retrieved the candle and, tilting Misto's head to the right angle, started the process again. Much like the first attempt nothing happened for the first few moments, then once again he visibly flinched and brought his hand up, but instead of knocking the candle away he grabbed my wrist which was attached to the hand still resting along his jaw.

"I-I'm sor-"he grimaced.

"You're alright" I reassured, gently running my thumb over the fur located just above his cheek "hold still now."

Mistoffelees did his best to obey but beneath my fingers I could feel him trembling, fighting the urge to pull away from the heat. Defrosting one's whiskers is all very well when you have electricity. Just boil a kettle and hold your face over the steam. But when there isn't any power you have to rely on this slower method which draws out the pain much more slowly and double the intensity. Think having an entire limb's worth of pins and needles concentrated into a single strand of hair.

I racked my brains trying to think of something to take his mind away from the discomfort and asked the first question that popped into my head "so… Where did you learn how to do make up? Were you part of a drama group back in the states?"

A smile briefly flickered across his face. "Well, not a drama group in the traditional sense. Do you remember when told you about my first year of college?"

"I remember you said you didn't have enough money to live in the dorms. So you worked in this place that gave you food and lodgings which they deducted from your pay. An institution of some sort?"

"An all-girls boarding school*. Which, I quote, 'has been providing opportunities for young ladies since 1886'."

"Get out" I said, my snort of amusement nearly blowing the candle out.

"It's true!" he huffed "_And_ I collected some very useful information about living with teenaged queens."

"Do tell" My paws were shaking from silent laughter but I managed to set the candle down without any catastrophes and gently ran my knuckles along the skin of his right upper lip, massaging any remaining ache away, before starting on the whiskers on his left side.

"W-Well, I learnt how to put make up on other cats when I was conscripted into helping the seniors get ready for prom night. A-Apparently I was rather good and I was in demand for a while afterwards." He flinched suddenly as the feeling started returning to his right-sided whiskers. I moved my hand which had been cupping his cheek away, allowing him to clasp my palm with his own shaking fingers.

"What else did you learn about pre-queens?" I asked

"I-I learnt to hide any chocolate I might have" his voice shook a little "a-and to _always_ knock before entering a girls room. And to my surprise, I learnt that as bitchy as the girls could be, they could be just sympathetic and supportive, if not more so, when you needed someone to talk to."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, actually it when talking with some of the girls there that I first mentioned, my sexuality."

"Really, and were they okay with that?"

"Yeah, in fact most of them were like 'no shit Sherlock'. And that's another thing, never underestimate their powers of observation, or interrogation." He shuddered at the memory.

"Were they _that_ good?" I asked.

"Uh-huh, personally I think they could give any police department a run for their money. But they're only like that with stuff that interests them. So don't worry about losing your job anytime soon."

"That's good to know" I said setting the candle down one more and tenderly smoothing his whiskers against his cheek. Mistoffelees closed his eyes, smiling slightly.

"Hmmm" he breathed. A few seconds of silence followed where I became acutely aware or just how close we were, in fact I could feel the silent whoosh of air against my whiskers as he breathed in and out. I wanted to say something to him, tell him how utterly amazing he had been to my kids the past two years and apologize for the countless times he'd had to haul my sorry butt out of the parenting pot holes I frequently dug myself into*. Opening his eyes Mistoffelees looked at me, and then as if reading my mind he gave my fingers a small squeeze.

"I also learnt" he said quietly "to never ever, ever, ever, believe a girl…"

I smiled ruthfully, at least I knew that much...

"When she says she doesn't love her parents."*

I looked at him hopefully "really? You're not just saying that?"

"Of course I'm not" he told me. Glancing down he seemed to notice for the first time that his knees were pressing into my stomach and turned slightly red "I-uh, thank you f-for helping me with that, I'd never be able to get that done myself.

"You're welcome" I said truthfully "how's your nose feel?"

"It feels better now" he touched it tenderly and winced "I'm probably going to look like a clown tomorrow."

"Well I could always… try disguising it with makeup?" I offered. This succeeded in making his blush deeper.

"I-I might wait till Victoria gets home." He told me bashfully.

"That might be better" I agreed.

There was a flicker above us and the living room light switched on in full glow. One by one the other lights of the house did the same thing and deep rumbling of the fridge started up again. Upstairs we could hear the kids' exclamations of surprise as electricity was restored to the household. From across the street a neighbor cheered.

Mistoffelees and I looked at each other and grinned. The blackout was over.

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><p><strong>*Perhaps I'm being rather stereotypical here but hey, as a teenage girl I think I have a right to poke fun at myself. ;)<strong>

***I kid you not, this is the technical term for whiskers! **

***Oh lord I knew it was only a matter of time before boarding school found it's way into one of my fics. Being a boarder has become a focal point of my life since I was twelve and I honestly couldn't imagine life without it. All of my very best friends are, or have been boarders and one of the major plot bunnies I have to wrestle with on a daily basis is a cats fanfic based in a boarding school!**

***I'm sure you'd agree with me in saying that Munkus's single parenting style is actually pretty good, he just _thinks_ he's hopeless. :3 **

*** Everything Misto says here about living with teenaged girls is true. And I do mean EVERYTHING!**

**R & R if you feel so disposed.**


	10. Only the Begining

**This Chapter's from the killer's POV and by the end of it any person with the most basic knowledge of _Cats _should be able to say who he is I mean, ginger fur? homicidal tendancies? Who else is it going to be? Unless you can picture a very sadistic Skimble which I (almost) can't.**

**WARNING: This chapter contains suggested rape, swearing, a look into the killer's mind, and a possible glimpse into his past.**

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><p>'<em>Perfection'<em> the killer decided as he gazed at the silken bed before him '_should never be underrated'_

In this Cat forsaken world of disorder, asymmetry and so called 'freedom' there were only a few things that he considered to be worthwhile. And fewer still which he believed to be perfect. But oh what items of perfection they were... Take his killings for instance. They were sudden. They were violent. They were ballsy. They were untraceable. They were _flawless_

and only the beginning…

Walking through the streets that day he'd seen countless Jellicles pouring over the morning papers exclaiming in surprise when they found their beloved lawyer's body on the front page. And the story that came with it, compliments of the press, was fantastic. While the people and the police were speculating over her past cases and opponents who wanted revenge, he was lounging on a park bench thinking to himself '_you fuckers have NO idea'._ And now the evening news would be devoted to reporting the deaths of two seemingly harmless queens who'd been brutally murdered by a mystery cat. He liked that name, The Mystery Cat; it had a nice ring to it.

The news reporter had also talked about the so called 'achievements' that these queens had accomplished. They'd even gone as far as to say that their death was 'a tragic loss to society'. He'd smiled patronizingly at that. Oh yes it the death of those queens certainly appeared to be a tragic loss. It was partly why he'd chosen them in the first place, in the lawyer's case he'd been fantasizing about having his way with her body for years. But the loss of 'progressive' queens like them wasn't a loss necessarily. In fact for hardworking deserving toms like him it was a gain. Just think, if that stroppy little _bitch_ who called herself the Head of the Department and his old work place hadn't…

The killer growled and his paws reflexively curled inwards as those hated memories came to surface. Where was his order!

A timid knock sounded and the door opened. _'About time!'_ he thought as he surveyed his reward for his hard day of work.

She wasn't a tabby or a calico which was good. He'd had more than enough of calicos for one day. This creature with her slender limbs and slanting eyes was much more exotic. A Siamese if his judgment was correct. Wordlessly he reached out a paw to caress her cherubic face. She flinched away. The audaciousness! With a growl he threw her on the bed her head hitting the wall with a crack as he did so. Swiftly he climbed in after her and grabbed her hips to pull her forwards. Her arms reached up to protect her face and he pinned them back to the bed immobilising any further resistance. A low whimper of fear escaped her lips when he forcefully pushed her legs apart with his knee. Before moving in he gazed once more at the scene in front him. And was satisfied with what he saw.

'_Oh yes' _he smirked _'perfection should never be underrated'_.

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><p><strong>And as you can see folks I DO NOT believe in a perfect society or people. It just doesn't happen! This belief is something I've reacently tried to incorporate into my writing and I think to have the characters not being perfect (except for Oswald who's perfectly cute!) has definetly made them more interesting and fun to write about. Hopefully they're more fun and interesting to read about as well!<strong>

**Luv Felix**

**R & R if you feel so disposed**


	11. Who You Gonna Call?

**OMG I've not updating in like forever! But I can honestly say I've not been idle during this time. I've worked out a few kinks in my plot and done some more serial killer research (thank you Strampunk!) and even managed to make time to go trekking for a fornight with my dad. Annnnnnnnd when we were wading through snow somewhere over 3000m above sea level I had the most TERRIFIC plot bunny which has been subtlely included in this chapter but will become more obvious later on. The worst part was that I had to hold onto the bunny _very _tightly untill we'd reached a lower altitude and I could defrost the ink in my pen!**

**I've also been doing some reasearch as to where slash came from. Apparently people first started writing fanfiction with homosexuality in them during the 1970's. most of them were about two guys from star trek called Kirk and Spock (Spork!) It might be hard to imagine if you've only seen the 2009 movie but trust me; if you've seen the original tv series it is very, very, very, VERY obvious, expecially once you learn where certain alian species' "tender spots" are located ) **

**So continuing from where we left off...**

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><p>"Misto, could you tell Jenny and Skimble that I said hi? I need to head out again."<p>

"Alright, but don't you want something to eat before you?" My stomach thought wistfully of the casserole that Jenny probably had going in the oven right at this moment. The beef vindaloo had been five hours, one murder ago and I was _hungry_.

"Maybe just a sandwich made with some leftovers?" I suggested, trying (and failing) to not look too pathetically starved.

"I think the only leftovers we have is the chicken from last night, are chicken and cheese sandwiches okay?"

'_SCORE!'_

"That would be great thanks Misto."

Ten minutes later I was driving down the street fully equipped with a brown paper bag of chicken and cheese sandwiches at my side and a thermos of hot coffee in the cup holder. Misto had guessed that my day had been long one and had smuggled it in before I could protest. Sneaky little devil…

I drove down familiar streets that made up my route back to the yard passing a road that had been blocked off by police tape. Behind the barrier was a badly dented car that had obviously been the victim of a driver's misconception that a lack of traffic lights meant that give way rules no longer had to be obeyed. The driver in question was sitting inside an ambulance wearing an orange blanket and a sulky expression. Hunched over and talking on his mobile he looked no more than thirty at most. Guess he'd have to learn one day that cars aren't expendable.

Hang on…

When I was thirty I'd been married for nine years. I had an eight year old and a six year old to chauffer between play dates, school, birthday parties, dentist appointments and countless other journeys. And in all those years since I'd had kids I don't think I'd ever gotten so much as a booking ticket I was so pedantic about driving. Right after Victoria was born I went through a stage where I wouldn't drive above 40km/hr. and even now I get worried if one of the gang chooses to sit in the passenger's seat next to me instead of in the back. I guess being a parent does that to you. Once you walk out of the maternity ward that's it, your life isn't your own any more. Whether it be what you buy at the supermarket, what station you listen to on the radio or who you date; you can never leave them out of the equation.

But then again, when Griddlebone had left us she'd done just that.

Maybe I should just leave the theorizing to the shrinks.

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><p>Once I got back to the yard I found Pouncival and Pepper on what looked like their third can of root beer and second maxi cup of KFC's popcorn chicken. They hadn't caught sight of me yet and we doodling on the whiteboard and laughing over what looked like a series of sketches of stick figures wearing police hats.<p>

"So you see Clueless doesn't know who to ask so we offer up Hopeless along with a bottle of jack and vola! Mission accomplished!" Pounce was snickering as he scribbled a label next to a stick figure that was missing a tail.

"And before you know it they'll be in the back of the paddy wagon with shackles and hidden cameras pointed their way. I like it!" Pepper giggled.

"Like I said, it's foolproof!" Declared Pounce as he puffed out his chest with the admiration.

"is that an arrest plan that you're working on?" I asked them.

They both jumped a foot in the air at my inquiry. Markers and empty cans went flying as they scrambled upright trying to look like they'd been at least semi-productive since I'd been away.

"H-Hi Munkustrap" stammered Pounce. "You're back early."

"an observation of the obvious," I remarked unwilling to let them off the hook just yet. "And how is the investigation going? Have you found any new leads? Made copies of the portrait?"

Pepper and Pounce looked guiltily at each other, then at the floor, then belatedly realizing how unprofessional this was stared very hard at the door behind me.

"No new leads were uncovered sir" Pepper answered at length "we… haven't gotten round to making copies of the portrait yet."

"Oh and why is that?" My voice had dropped to a lower, more dangerous tone that caused Pepper to shrink back a little.

Pouncival, unaware of the smoke coming out of my ears blurted out before thinking "because there's no point! Portrait sketches are even than CCTV as far as identification goes. We've got a gun we cannot trace. We won't even have the fucking fingerprints till tomorrow. What's the point of going on when we've got nothing to go on with?"

Pepper nodded mutely in agreement.

My fuse that'd been steadily shortening all day finally snapped.

"What's the point? What's the goddam POINT?" I half yelled out. Turning around I marched over towards my desk, grabbed a photo of Felicity Hays's mutilated body and held it within ten inches away from their faces. As expected they cringed away from the gruesome sight.

"This is the point" I told them. "the point is that until we capture this guy, he's going to continue doing this-" again I brandished the photo, "To young girls until we capture him, lock him up, and swallow the key. Do you really want a guy like that walking the streets at night? And there I was hoping that you two would want to lock him away as badly as I do."

There was an extended silence.

"I… sorry sir" Pepper murmured finally

Pounce's ears twitched uncomfortably, after a moment's hesitation he reached up and I laid the photo in his outstretched paw. He and Pepper studied it in silence.

"We'll get right on it" Pounce said at last. He and Pepper returned quietly to their desks.

A few seconds later Pepper headed out to the photocopier with the hand drawn portrait whilst Pounce started re-reading the autopsy reports.

Sometime later when I'd finished the last of my coffee the lab delivered to me the ballistics report from Hay's Murder. It confirmed what we already knew. The bullet was the same diameter at the entrance wounds into both Hays and Maclaby. The gun had it been fored from was made for the USofA army and had been lost nearly three years ago. Not it had turned up and was being used to kill innocents on the streets. We really needed to know who'd brought the gun to Britain and fast. There was an idea I'd been toying with on how to find it, but it would be tricky, I'd have to play my cards just right. Plus I'd need help from someone who was as much a professional as a British businessman, but with even less ethical boundaries. Lucky for me I had just the right person on my speed dial.

It only took a moment to place the call and less than eight rings for the phone to be answered with "What's up Munkus?"

"Hey Cori, do you happen to know where Fat Al's being kept?"

* * *

><p>"Well if it ain't the chief's son 'imself comin to pay respects. To whom do I owe the honor?" Sneered Fat Al as he was brought into the private interview booth the prison reserved for police.<p>

"Sit" I gestured to the chair that I'd deliberately moved from the other side of the table to within half a meter from my own. Fat Al sat down and I pretended to ignore the ominous groan that came from the chair as his gluttonous backside made contact with its surface.

"Ahem. Before this interview commences I would like to remind you that Mr. Delgado has the right to press charges if any harassment, whether it be physical, verbal, sexual or…"

"I wouldn't worry bout that one Smith" Grinned Fat Al as he informed his lawyer of my past marital issues. "This one's too prissy to go behind his wife, even when 'is wife ain't there anymore." He shot me a condescending smirk.

"Yes sir. Furthermore I wish to endorse that this interview is not and shall not be recorded in anyway, this includes taking notes, voice recorders, mobile phones etc. without the explicit consent of my client. Furthermore…"

"We _get_ it Smith," said Fat Al bored with asserting his power over me for the time being. "Whataya wanna know? I've already tol' your buddies that I'm not guilty."

"That will be a matter for the jury to decide," I informed him "I have no interest whatsoever in your latest drug charge."

"Then I must protest that…" Fat Al's lawyer of dubious alliance began but the drug dealer waved him silent again. Fat Al then waited for me to continue, looking as content as if he was sitting down in his own living room. And in many ways he was doing just that. With his completely corrupted but murderously effective lawyer in the room there was little to do that would be considered as "trespassing" on his rights. Point to Fat Al.

"I have no interest in your so called "recreation stock trade" I repeated. "I am however, _very_ interested in this…" I pulled out a diagram of the gun that we were looking for and placed in on the table "Do you recognize it?"

Fat Al peered at the diagram and gave a shrug "Looks like a gun to me, and a pretty nice one at that."

"How can you tell that it's nice?"

"Jesus does a guy av' to be a policeman to av' an interest in guns and not be accused of criminality?" He asked palms spread wide in mock innocence.

"_Only if he's a recreational stock merchant," _I retorted silently. Out loud I said, "An interest in guns we've found does tend to indicate an interest in life and death, or rather, the regulation of it. Wouldn't you say Mr. Delgado?"

Point to Munkus.

Fat Al's piggy eyes opened wide in surprise and anger, then narrowed with suspicion. Unfortunately for me the cat wasn't stupid; he'd been in the game long enough to recognize a trap when he say one. Point to Fat Al.

A moment later he was grinning hugely, almost amused. "You think I'm the one who's been shootin them birds don't you?" he asked. "Well let me tell you now, my alibi's water tight. I've been here for the past twenty four hours waitin for my bail like a good kid. I'm not the guy you're after."

"I never said you were related to those murderers, at least not _directly_ so."

Fat At scratched his nose. "I dunno what you're talkin about,"

"We have certain references that suggest you've either deliberately or accidentally supplied American army handguns to citizens in London, the same type that is being used to murder those 'birds' as you call them. But I want to hear what you have to say Mr. Delgado." I leant forward and could barely contain my grin when Fat Al scooted his chair back. Okay so we didn't have any "references" per say. But he didn't know that. Point to Munkus.

"So what is it Fat Al? did you feel pissed cause you couldn't get some bitch in your bed? Did you have a 'friend' who was short of a few bob who'd be willing to do some odd jobs for ya? Or maybe the guy was doing the job for his own satisfaction. Didn't you ask questions when he came asking for your help? Of course you didn't you fat bastard. And you turned a blind eye when you read about the death of those women in the newspapers. You might be a murderer Fat Al, but you're…"

"I did not kill those women!" Fat Al roared as he sprang out of his seat. "I didn't give nobody a gun to kill those hussies you…"

"My client does not wish to continue this," Mr. Smith butted in before he'd be forced to find some lawful reason for his client to knock me down. "He requests that you leave the premises."

And with that, just as the interview was getting interesting I was forced to walk out before I'd gotten any definite information. Point to Fat Al.

Cori was waiting for me outside the prison, leaning carelessly against his car with a cigarette in his hand.

"You know those are bad for you right?" I gestured towards the fag he was holding.

"When in underworld, do as underworlder does," Cori shrugged. "How did the Q&A go?"

"He denied killing the women. His alibi was that he was in his cell at the time."

"Well we never suspected him in the first place."

"True, but he also denied having any _links _to the murderer, and his lawyer threatened charges if I so much as sniffed in that general direction."

"That's very bad for us."

"He also got defensive when I questioned his innocence, scratched his nose when he said he didn't know what I was talking about, and even scooted away from me when I mentioned the handguns." Point to Munkus.

Even in the semi-darkness I could see the glint of Cori's teeth as he grinned, "Sounds like somebody's nose grew a foot or two tonight."

"So you think my idea's worth it?"

Cori set aside personal glee for the moment and considered the matter.

"I mean he did deny that he had any connection to the murders, and all that we've got to go on is a nose scratch and the fact that he has the capacity to bring a gun to London; but personally I think it's worth a shot."

"So you're going to try?" Cori asked hopefully.

"If you come with me," I nodded. "I'll be needing someone with breaking and entering experience."

Cori whooped loudly and punched the air causing a few passersby to stare at us strangely but he gave them no mind, he was too excited. "Do you know how long it's been since I've gotten to trash something? When do we start, can we start tonight? What about the cars can I wreck 'em too?"

"No we'll start tomorrow," I answered his second question.

Cori's face fell. "Why?"

"Because I've got to pick my daughter up from the movies and meet the kid she's dating."

"Can't we just whack him out with a baseball bat and get it over with?"

"…No"

"Why?" Cori was almost whining now.

I gave him a long serious look. "Because whacking your daughter's date out with a baseball bat isn't conducive for inter-familial peace and harmony."

Cori stared at me as if I was crazy.

I ran a tired hand through my head fur "It's a thing they teach you at daddy school okay?"

* * *

><p><strong>... Point to Munkus!<strong>

**R & R if you feel so disposed**

**P.S dear CrazyIndigoChild, I'm not updating another word untill a new chapter's been added to 'Where Loyalty Lies.' Having Quaxo save his fish was hilarious/adorable but now I was more! luv Felixfeles (who's as greedy as Bustopher when it comes to your fic!)**

**P.P.S somebody just recently told me that Felix is a boy's name and expressed concern that I was gender confused. Please note o' concerned person that I'm _very_ certain that I'm a girl I simply had no idea that Felix was a gender specific name (faceplam!) I chose it because it creates nice aliteration with feles and in latin it means 'lucky'. I'm a Lucky Cat! **


	12. Sabotage and Secrecy

**New chapter! This one contains swearing, violence and scary women in fuzzy pink dressing gowns.**

**A special thanks has to go to CraztIndigoChild who beta edited this for me :3**

**All typos are to be blamed on my boyfriend who's sitting next to me and messing with my laptop in order to get my attention.**

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><p>As it turned out Vicky didn't want to talk me or Misto about her date; she simply said it was nice and now she was tired and would like to go to bed. And so, Misto and I were left standing by ourselves outside the girls' room. As we walked down the hallway to our respective rooms I turned to look at Misto with a tired grin.<p>

"What's the bet she's not texting her friends right now about the juicy details she doesn't want us to know about?"

The corner's of Misto's mouth twitched upwards but he managed to keep a straight face.

"About a hundred to one would be my guess."

"Psssht, give my daughter some credit! I'd say a thousand to one." I would've liked to stay and talk with the tux some more, but I wasn't too sure if I'd be able to not collapse on the floor and start snoring in the process. It was well past any conceivable bedtime when I'd arrived back home and, in my state of barely conscious, even taking a shower would be risky.

Despite the thick duvet cover I had, kicking off my shoes and crawling into bed was still freezing. Tomorrow was definitely going to be a cold-weather-clothing day, but with any luck I could avoid wearing the fluorescent yellow parka that Tugger had given me for my birthday last year. How tasteless can a fashion icon get? I mean come on, yellow...

I shivered again even as my natural body heat finally started to warm up the bed. Automatically I rolled over to the side of the bed where my spouse slept to seek the warmth of another and the familiar feel of a body against my own. It was already too late when I remembered I was alone and I fell off the bed, only just saving myself from a painful landing by throwing my arm out in front of me and grabbing onto the bedside table. Sighing, I wriggled back into bed and buried my face in a pillow. Don't get me wrong, most of the time I love having a double bed all to myself; the extra space is wonderful and it means I never get over heated in summertime, not to mention the epic mattress forts that are constructed when my chicks want to play nerd wars. But sometimes, when it's just me it gets so...so... never mind.

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><p>The next morning I woke up before anyone else in the house, even (miracle of miracles) before Jemima. I dressed as quietly as I could and tiptoed down the corridor without turning on any of the lights. If any of the kids, Skimble, Misto, or Heavyside forbid Jenny found out what I was up to I would have a hard time explaining myself. Just as I was pulling on my shoes I heard the sound of a bed groaning upstairs and footsteps walking towards the upstairs bathroom<p>

'_Oh shit, if I'm caught..._'

I shoved my feet into my shoes without bothering about the laces and unlocked the front door as quietly as I could. Meanwhile, the foot steps had left the bathroom; if they came downstairs I was deader than a dodo on dopamine. Stepping outside and heading towards the car I allowed myself a small sigh of relief until...

"And where do you think you're going this early in the morning, Mistoffelees?"

I flinched slightly and turned around guiltily to face my doom when I realized the name the voice had used wasn't mine.

'_Huh_?'

Stepping back inside, I found Jenny dressed for battle in an overly fuzzy pink dressing gown with matching curlers in her head fur towering over a visibly quaking Mistoffelees, who was standing with a pair of shoes in his hand. He had obviously been attempting to do exactly what I'd been doing: escaping the house before breakfast. A sin which, in Jenny's books, is completely, utterly, and inexcusably unforgivable. According to her going without breakfast would cause you to pass out by tea time, loose twenty points off your IQ, and compel you to eat a dozen supersize yorkie bars before lunch. It didn't matter how adorable Misto was, he was in for it.

"I...I was...I just...I" Misto was fast loosing his comprehension abilities, making whatever excuse he'd eventually come up with even less plausible. And Jenny certainly wasn't helping matters. My Aunt knew full-well the power of her scare outfit and was using it to her full advantage; down to the pink slippers garnished with fluffy Pom-pons.

"Well... I'm waiting" said Jenny, tapping her foot expectantly.

"I..."

"He's with me Jenny," I said, stepping inside and directing her gaze at me instead of the tux who was staring at me with his mouth open. "Misto and I... decided to grab breakfast together this morning at Warren's Waffle House." In my experience as an adolescent and then a policeman, I'd come to know that a good lie contains one grain of truth, one vague revelation, and one detailed revelation. That ratio had gotten me out of trouble with crime lords, kidnappers, and school masters, but only had a partial success rate with my female relatives. "We're leaving early because we wanted to jump the traffic jam and, err, and Misto has a test to do this morning."

"I have to be there by eight forty-five for a nine o'clock start," Misto jumped into the conversation unexpectedly.

'_Bravo Misto!_' I cheered silently as Jenny's entire posture became less threatening. Now instead of looking downright scary, my Aunt's expression became scarily pleased. '_What on earth?_'

"Well have a good time you two, drive carefully, Munkus," she told me as she stuffed Misto into his shoes and practically threw us out the door. "And make sure that you get some vitamins inside you as well as carbohydrates," was her parting farewell before she winked broadly at the pair of us and briskly clipped the door shut. I gawped after her for a few moments before turning to Misto.

"Do you have any idea what she meant by that wink?" I asked him.

Misto looked at the ground. "I...umm, I have no idea" he shuffled his paws a little. "How did you know I had a test to do this morning?"

"Lucky guess," I told him. "And you do seem to have a lot of assessments at the moment."

"You're telling me," he said dryly.

"So, why are you leaving now if you don't have to be there till eight forty-five?"

"Well, I actually have to be there at seven thirty, but Jenny didn't need to know that."

I chuckled at the tom's display of ingenious. "Do you want me to give you a lift? We could pick up breakfast on the way and you'll still be early for your class."

He looked at me uncertainly. "Won't I be inconveniencing you?"

"Just a little," I told him. "I'll expect you to get top marks for my trouble."

Misto actually laughed at that, causing a grin to spread across my own face. "I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

"I'm sure you won't Misto. Now, let's scram before Jenny changes her mind." Biting back a laugh, Misto followed me into the car and we fled the premises in search of caffeine and empty calories; as long as we cleaned the car out before coming back home, Jenny would be none the wiser.

Cori was pissed when I showed up at the yard a whole twenty minutes after our planned meeting time.

"Where the hell were you?" he asked as I headed towards my desk and started sifting through the mail that had been deposited there by some unknown rookie stuck with postie duty.

"Sorry I'm late, I was dropping Misto off at campus."

"So your kids' nursery-maid asks you to drive him across the city and you just say 'alright darling', do you?"

"I was the one who suggested it actually, and even then it took some persuasion before he'd say yes. And he's not a nursery-maid," I added belatedly.

"Wait... So you offered him the lift?"

"Yes."

"Gotcha," said Cori, pulling his mobile out of his jean's pocket. "So are you going to go to the Christmas party Bustopher's got going for us?" he asked, glancing towards the envelope I held containing the invitation to said party; the second one I'd received so far.

"I'd sooner become Ling's assistant," I affirmed as I tossed the envelope into the bin. Cori nodded and finished off his text before putting his phone back in his pocket. "Ready to head off?" I asked once I'd finished sorting through my mail.

Cori's grin was just short of being manic. "Let's go break some stuff!"

* * *

><p>The whole reason for Cori and I arriving at the Satan's Saints clubhouse in the early morning was simple: no one was likely to be there at that time. And, sure enough, when we pulled the car over and stepped out onto the footpath the street was deserted.<p>

"We're using the front door? I thought that the back door was safer." I glanced over at Cori who was swaggering down the sidewalk with a genuine cocky street-kid attitude. The pair of us were dressed in overly baggy jeans, hoodies, and converse to keep up the appearance of harmless ragamuffins. But whilst I looked like a Tom who had worn his son's clothing to a fancy dress party; Cori looked so authentically chav that I had to keep on reminding myself that the Tom beside me was my friend and not a townie I'd have to arrest within the next five minutes for smashing a phone box.

"Front and back entrances are reversed in the underworld," answered Cori. "Did you bring the lock gun?"

Whilst Cori wrestled with and swore at the lock on the door, I concentrated on taking photos and a video of the scene for future reference with a phone camera. Then pulled out from my backpack a pair of ski masks, gloves, and a change of shoes that would help prevent identification if by chance we were caught on security camera. Once Cori had the door open we donned the gear and stepped inside the clubhouse.

I remembered the first room easily enough, it had been where we'd arrested Fat Al's gang, but once we walked through the second set of doors Cori and I began to move a bit more cautiously. We'd managed to learn the general layout of the building by closely studying the building's original floor plans as well as the few hidden cameras Scotland yard had managed to place here and there. But nothing could dissipate the ingrained feeling of unfamiliarity that lurked in the back of my mind as we made our way down the main corridor and crept up the clubhouse's dark and daunting staircase.

"Check this out!" Cori stage whispered as he stepped through the first likely-looking door. I followed him through and found myself in was appeared to be a sort of rumpus room. Crime was not supposed to pay, but Fat Al and his minions seemed to have done well enough. Not only did they have the traditional vending machine, pool table, and microwave for recreational use; they also possessed a two meter long plasma tv, a marbled bar area, and a sound system that would put a heavy metal band to shame. The finishing touch though was the three-quarter sized bronze statue of Fat Al himself, sitting astride a Harly Davidson looking like an English lord upon a stallion, and with a girth to match.

"Anything useful in here?" Cori asked turning to face me.

"Maybe..." I spent a good half an hour carefully cutting up the couches with my pocket knife, emptying the bottles in the bar, and even drilling a hole the statue for anything that might indicate illegal dealing. But nothing distinctive came up. "No. I can't see anything here."

"So can I?"

"Yes, Cori, you can mess up this room. But be careful."

Cori rolled his eyes. "Munkus, if you want me trash this place to disguise the fact that you've been poking around, then at least let me do the job properly." He didn't even wait for my reply but proceeded to tip over the chairs, smash the glasses, and douse the entire room with a liberal amount of silly string. Once he'd finished up by drawing a goatee and a monobrow on the statue's face the room no longer looked like it had been searched through thoroughly and carefully, but bombarded by a group of teenagers with a malicious party streak. That was the effect we were aiming for.

"You enjoy this way too much," I told Cori as he all but bounced out of the third room I had searched through and he had wrecked havoc in.

"You're clearly not enjoying this at all," he answered back. "Haven't you found anything useful?"

"Nothing. What we need to find is some sort of office with business records in it, or a storage area with Fat Al's illegal goods, that would be useful. I'm afraid that a games room with a playstation just doesn't cop it."

"Point, maybe if we tried the basement instead..."

"Well, well, well, look what the cat washed in," a voice called out mockingly behind us. By the time I'd spun round to see who the voice belonged to Coricopat was already attacking the nearest of the intruders.

"Cori wait!" I yelled, but it was too late; Cori had already pinned the first attacker down to the ground and would have moved on to the second if he hadn't had the presence of mind to draw his gun out and press it against my friend's temple.

"You should listen to your mate here more often," the Tom sneered at Cori. "We might've let you off lightly then."

"You put that gun away and I'll show you 'letting off lightly', fag-face," snarled Cori which caused the Tom growl and kick him soundly under the chin. Cori's head snapped back and he hit the wall with enough force to leave him temporarily dazed.

I spoke quickly before the henchcats could do the same to me. "We're not looking for trouble here, guys; give us half a minute and we'll be out of your fur."

"Oi, you're not the one givin' orders 'round here, punk," the Tom that Cori had knocked down earlier growled as he picked himself up. "You and your friend are trespassin' and you'll have to answer to the boss when he gets back. I'm sure you know who I'm talkin' about." He shot me a nasty grin. "And you'll be lucky if you have half you teeth in your head when he finds out what you've done to his statue."

'_Oh shit. If Fat Al sees and recognizes us we're done for and dusted!'_

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><p><strong>Ohh cliffy much? And don't argue, I know you love it :P<strong>

**R & R if you feel so disposed**


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